Let's Start Over
by PiepsiPiper
Summary: He wanted her. And he would have her. Caryl one-shots in varying time periods. I also take requests! M for sexual content. Enjoy!
1. Rain

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will post periodically in the Caryl tag. I needed some post-hospital, so there's this?

The car tires sloshed in the mud as the gravel of the worn road crumbled, speeding toward their destination. Daryl had one arm leaning on the windowsill of the car, his fingers brushing his stubble, his other hand on the wheel, his brow furrowed. Carol watched the rain beat down from the passenger seat, pale and exhausted from the hospital rescue. Rick had luckily known vaguely about medicine enough to pick out a few drugs that would help her recovery and sedate the pain and Daryl had swiped a few bottles of ibuprofen just in case. He had bundled her in an old blanket because it was cold out and the car was worse for wear when it came to the heater. She looked so small and fragile in the seat with her knees curled up to try to soothe her sore stomach. He wanted to stop because he knew it was giving her motion sickness but he knew he had to keep going.

"I like the rain." Her voice wakes him up from his daze, even though his eyes have never left the road.

He glanced at her, his overgrown hair falling in his face. He didn't say anything; he was partially still trying to process the fact that she was back...

"Do you like the rain, Daryl?"

Daryl snapped back into focus again, this time straightening. He had to get his head together. He smiled over at her softly, seeming to reassure her fears, but it faded when he turned his gaze back. He sighed and looked at the rain, before responding slowly, "Lonely. Rain has always seemed lonely to me..."

He felt her hand touch his, and his heart burst just a little too much. Before she could move it away, he switched hands on the wheel and gave her hand a tiny, butterfly kiss, squeezing it before releasing her. "It's not as lonely as you think..."

"Oh yeah?" he responded, unable to help but snort a little, but he looked a little apologetic when she pouted. He raised an eyebrow, but he was quiet, seeming to contemplate as the car turned a corner, lurching a bit at a bump, and Carol turned a little green. He bit his lip worriedly, before deciding to entertain her for the sake of the car ride, whispering, "Why don't you make me believe it? You've made me believe in everything else... Maybe you were all I ever needed to wake up."

He's not sure why he said that, but her blush and her small smile despite her pale face leaves him with no regrets. He can spare a little mush. She looked out the window, the walkers seeming rather deterred from the roads when it rained. But then again, they were in a fairly deserted area, and though the walkers traveled in herds, there were some spaces it would still lay quiet. "Well," she said softly, "It's the opposite of fire... But they do the same thing. They make room for new life.

"The water lets plants grow, and it nourishes us. We need it to live, just like we need each other. It soothes us, even the thunder. It's a quiet night compared to walkers and even you can admit to enjoying when it rains. I've seen you when you used to stand outside the prison when it rained and stare at the sky... Just letting it touch your face. In a good mood, of course. In a bad one, you'd just come home looking like a cat that got a bath."

She giggled when he growled a little, muttering embarrassedly, "Ya saw that?"

"Of course," Carol said, a little dreamily, curling tighter to brace herself for another turn, hugging the blanket to herself and setting the seat back a little. It was dark except for the bright full moon hanging in the sky, and she seemed intrigued by that as well, before continuing, "The rain... It gives us hope. Hope that someday... We can come back from this, and we can spread out again... Not nearly as much as before, but..." She paused, before murmuring, "I may have lost Lizzie and Mika and Sophia, and... a-and I still need... time, I still don't... want to talk about it, but someday... maybe..."

"Don't worry about that right now then," Daryl replied, saving her of the crack in her voice, though the thought of parenthood burned fear inside his soul, he was at the same time inherently longing of it, whispering after several moments of silence, "We'll see, when that day comes. We'll see."

She was silent still and he began to feel concerned when she suddenly gave a little giggle, whispering, "And when your kids are old enough to understand the rain, they want to catch it. You give them a bucket and they run out in the rain, hopping around each other and everyone around them, just catching the rain in a bucket, and when they're done... They'll run up to you, and they look so pleased with themselves... I always told my little girl the story of the Dovekeepers, how the old lady's grandchildren got their voices back after being mute for years from traumatically watching their parents taken because they filled buckets of water in the first rain from the drought. They always think if they fill that bucket with rainwater, somewhere someone's gonna get their voice back."

Daryl was stunned into silence, in awe of the picture she had painted with her story. He even felt his eyes getting a little glassy, biting his lip again. They rolled into a very deserted town, checking his map to assure he was on the same path the rest of their group, his lip trembling a little, trying not to show it. He had never heard of such a story in all his years, but then again he had never been told many stories, least of which inspired a stirring hope. He had always thought there was no point in stories anymore in this new way of life, but he realized maybe he had thought wrong. Stories and people and love kept them going. That was the real way to survive, not power and obedience.

"Stop the car, Daryl," Carol said abruptly with a gasp, in such a way Daryl almost slammed the brakes. She lurched a little and he looked guilty again but she looked a little happy. His heart fluttered at the thought he might be the only one that could light her face with a smile or a smirk even in the darkest times. He watched her get out of the car, the blanket tied around her shoulders, concern creasing his brow. When she beckoned to him, he got out of the car, approaching her slowly, looking around worriedly. "Shh, Daryl, it's fine, we're safe... Dance with me."

Daryl looked taken aback, shrinking a bit. "But you're hurt," he tried to protest, but she took his hands and began to waltz with him in a circle, directing him on where to put his feet but quickly finding he knew how.

He relaxed when she seemed alright, searching her eyes, before softly saying, as if fearful someone else would hear, "I'll be good... I'll be good... and I'll love the world like I should..." He rested his forehead against hers, watching her eyes close and pulling her closer though the rain drenched them to assure her warmth, dancing with her under the moonlight in the rain in front of that old rickety car. Nobody was watching here, he could spare everything to make her happy. He kissed her lips gently, swaying his hips slowly as he stepped. "For all of the times I never could... for all of the things that I've done..."

"I missed you," she murmured, her words all she needed to show her love, and his compliance all she needed, dancing in the rain in the middle of nowhere in the apocalypse. He hummed softly, resting his chin on top of her head, sweeping her around in slow, graceful sways though no music played except for in their imaginations, until her feet began to move a little more like lead.

So, Daryl picked her up and carried her to the car, stroking her hair, tipping her seat all the way back because he couldn't bear to not have at least his peripheral vision on her. He didn't even want her in his rear view mirror. He laid her down, draping a spare blanket on her and buckling her in. Her fingers curled in his and she whispered a thank you, to which he choked out ever so quietly, "I love you."

He then got back in and began to drive again, glancing at his map. Only a little longer until he met up with Rick and Michonne, Glenn and Maggie... The others. They had split to insure to leave no heavy trace. These were all deserted back roads anyway.

He glanced down at her sleeping form, smiling wryly before sucking in a breath.

"You were right," he said, looking at the rain spattering the windshield, "Rain is beautiful."


	2. Cats

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

Daryl had always been more of a dog person, but he wanted to know everything about her. When the days were bleak and the nights were quiet, he could find her laying on her stomach on the bed, kicking her feet in the nightgown Daryl had brought for her, flipping through a magazine and stroking the pictures of cats. He wanted to give her one more than he wished for a dog, because she was everything to him and he didn't always know how to say it loud and clear. She was all he needed. He didn't want a dog if all he could have was her.

"I want a little white one," she said one day when he had come home from a long day hunting and scavenging. She was smiling down at the magazine, her running her hands through her growing hair, humming cheerfully.

Daryl just grunted, flopping down onto the bed beside her face first before throwing his vest in the general direction of the wall.

"You know, Ed never let me have a cat," she continued, tolerating his unresponsiveness, used to his exhaustion after the day's work. Sometimes they would make love and sometimes he would pass out like a light, but not before at least cuddling her. She didn't mind so long as he was hers. She didn't realize this comment, or any mention of Ed, sent him sitting upright in a heartbeat, cracking his spine a little.

"I'll get you a cat then," he said almost immediately. He always tried to better himself from Ed, do everything her husband had always refused, give her all the freedoms she had been without before. He always tried to be the opposite of Ed, no matter how tired or how hurt or how hungry. She came first to him. At this point, with everything they had been through and every time they had been separated, he didn't care anymore whether or not someone saw them or someone heard them. They were a couple and though he wasn't big on publicity, if it happened, it happened, just like everything else. Whatever happened, happened.

"Where do you think you're going to find a cat now, Daryl?"

"I'll find a cat."

And that's how he got here. In a building on one of the runs, gripping his strap to his crossbow, staring down at the box. Damn, that woman had so much power over him. Without her, he had compiled jewelry and money for no reason, but with her around he was highlighting self-help books and scavenging Atlanta for kittens. He had told himself over and over, surely there had to be one place in fucking Atlanta that still had a cat if he had seen a dog.

How right he was, but at a cost.

The sight wrenched his heart just a little. He wouldn't lie about that. It had been a rough search and several runs to different places all over for supplies, but he had finally somehow stumbled upon what he was looking for. The bloodstains in the box told him the mother had protected the kittens but been dragged off by something; a raccoon or a walker, perhaps, but he wasn't sure if walkers even would care for animals. Maybe not since none of the wildlife seemed very affected. A human strain. If he was a scientist that might given him more of a theory. The only one moving with rapid breathing was an orange and white one. They weren't even out of nursing yet. The bloodstains were old, but the kittens were plump, helping them to last longer. He checked the others. One still had a pulse and he glanced around briefly, knowing everyone was still off looking around and the building was empty of walkers.

He sat down by the box and picked the two kittens up in his hands, which were much larger than the two combined. A softness came over his face and he held them close, scratching the faint kitten behind its ears, and he thought he heard it mewl just faintly as if for its mother and squirm its tiny paws before it went still. Daryl even felt his eyes water, actually having to fight off a few tears, looking down at them, kissing the dead kitten's forehead and hugging the tiny body before laying it back with its perished siblings, kissing his fingers and stroking each one a few times. He had to keep this one alive. Biting his lip, he tucked the baby kitten into his vest and finding some old blankets draping one over the box and lighting it on fire, the least he could do for them. Turning away, he stopped to check the kitten before tucking it back in his vest, confirming that surprisingly the kitten seemed healthy of something like mange.

He knew he would have to keep this quiet from the others, so he sneakily went into the pet aisle of one of the stores and swiped as much supplies as he could while still being discreet; cans of kitten formula, wet food for down the road, a cat toy, a collar with a tag but no bell, a bottle, and some newspaper from the front. He couldn't wait to get back to camp and show her, his beautiful Carol.

When he came in, she was folding their meager amount of laundry, leaning over and giving a view of her ass. Apparently finished working for the day. It had been relatively calm now that they had arrived at this camp. He smirked a little to himself but snapped out of it, realizing now was not the time. "Hello," he said calmly, making her squeak and jump, to which he couldn't help but smirk again, "You okay?"

Carol nodded, stepping toward him, but Daryl stopped her in her tracks, slowly bringing the kitten out from behind him. Her eyes went wide, looking from him to the kitten repeatedly in disbelief, and he turned away, walking to the bed to sit down. He dumped the bag on the floor and swiped a can of formula taking the bottle and carefully filling it. When Carol had recovered from her daze, she almost tripped over the supplies to come sit with him, her hand on his knee, leaning forward, watching in awe as he began to feed the little ball of fluff.

"Where did you find it?" she whispered, absently playing with a strand of his wild hair, staring at the kitten before looking up at him. "You really meant it..."

"Mhm," Daryl responded, shifting the kitten and offering it to her when it had finished eating. She accepted it, holding it up to examine it, making it mewl a little uncomfortably. Nuzzling the cat, she tucked it to her. "'s a boy."

Carol nodded, looking down at it, whispering, "It almost makes me miss having a baby." Daryl's expression softened but he stayed silent, scooting close to her, removing his vest. Carol giggled softly and tickled the kitten's little furry belly, making it squeal a little. "I want to name it... Hunter. Like my man over there, hm?" She scratched under its chin and it squeaked, smiling.

Daryl scoffed, kicking off his boots and laying back on the bed, grumbling a little bashfully, "You're welcome. Don't tell the others."

That's how he got here. The rain poured down outside and thunder rumbled. He had pulled Carol all the way onto his chest to ease her discomfort; she always seemed to squirm in her sleep when it stormed until he pulled her as close as he could. He started to doze off again when he heard a peculiar mewling and felt tiny pricks knead his chest. He opened his eyes a little, finding the kitten crawling toward his face though the eyes were still closed, whimpering. It tugged his heartstrings a little when the kitten fumbled a bit and he reached out his free hand, the other wrapped around Carol, to gently push it back on track. It mewed and crawled to his chin, moving its head around to sniff him.

To his surprise, the eyes opened slowly. They were bright blue, a brighter hue than his, and took several moments to focus and take in the surroundings before fixing on his face. With an insistent meow, looking a little terrified at another rumble of thunder that shook the small house, it buried itself against his neck and began kneading him, purring softly. He smiled a little to himself, raising his hand to slowly stroke it with a calloused finger, listening to the purrs slow as it fell asleep.

It took him a moment to cease petting the kitten, thinking to himself as he himself began to drift off again:

Consequences and traumas aside, maybe he wouldn't be so bad if he were a parent.

The kitten nuzzled his neck as he fell asleep, scooting closer, the soft fur pressed into his skin soothingly.

Everything was going to be alright.


	3. Ashes

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

He stepped away from the rubble slowly, biting back a whimper at the blackness on his skin, staring around, feeling the shock sting him. Everything was rubble, and on fire and ashes and he couldn't see anyone else. Hope died in him and he abruptly felt like someone had shut him down, feeling even worse since Carol had been ripped from him as the prison burned. "We gotta go," he managed, grabbing Beth's arm and fleeing for the woods.

Snap to another time. He stood next to Carol at the window, looking out at the fires along the city and the walkers melted to the streets, listening to what she was saying. "Everything now just consumes you..."

He didn't even let her finish her train of thought, saying firmly as he watched the fires rage, "We ain't ashes."

Snap to the present. The fire sizzled as he poured water on it, bending down to scrape the ashes into a bucket. He could feel Carol's eyes on him; she was still rather weak from being hit by the car and she would still get dizzy and have to lie down but he didn't mind. He had her back and that was all that mattered. Rick and the others pilfered about the makeshift camp, or rather, stirred in their cars and got out to stretch their legs. "What?"

"What are you doing?" Carol asked, seeming a little amused.

"Saving the ashes so they can be reused," he replied, putting a lid on the bucket and carrying it to their car, setting it inside. Carol snorted and he gave her a strange look, growling, "What?"

"Ashes can't be reused," she said, a little somberly, ambling slowly over to the car to get in.

To everyone's surprise, no matter how half-asleep, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back against the car, saying, "We ain't ashes. Stop it." Carol just looked down bleakly and he tilted her chin up, trying to make her face him, searching her eyes. "We are good people. We don't kill people just because we have a bloodlust or because we have to have power... You didn't kill anyone out of those things, not at all. You did it because it was the right thing to do and you wanted to keep us safe, your family. You were looking out for us, don't beat yourself up. And if we can't find where we belong, we'll make it on our own. We always have. You know that."

She was silent, so he shook her a little, a certain fear filling him. He dropped to his knees, looking up at her, feeling a little too vulnerable for his comfort but doing it anyway. "Carol, when I lost you, again, I did everything to get you back. You dunno how much I wanted to beat the shit outta those people for hurting you. You kept me going, nobody else! Without you I feel like lead, I have a duty but I'm not really breathing. You're the only hope for me." He scrambled to his feet again abruptly, feeling it was crucial for him to speak his mind right now when she needed it most, looking down. She looked like she might cry, and he feared he had said something wrong but instead, she hugged him tightly.

He staggered a little but hugged her back, burying his nose in her shirt. He couldn't lose her again, and he wouldn't. He felt her stroke his hair and shuddered before becoming a little more aware of the group and ushering her into the car. Everyone did their business and ate a little before beginning to move again, a surplus of fuel to hold their tanks. He gave Carol half of his can of beans after she had eaten her food, insistently pushing it into her hands until she obediently began to shovel it down. He settled, turning onto the road and following Rick's car heading out.

"How do you reuse the ashes?" she said suddenly, munching on a spoonful of baked beans, looking quite adorable.

Daryl grunted, silent for several moments, drumming his fingers on the wheel before responding, "They can be used as firestarter with a log or two or brush. Makeshift coals, kinda." She nodded simply before he continued, "It's like this: You start a fire, it burns out. You take the ashes and start another fire, stronger than before. The phoenix rises from the ashes and sets them ablaze..."

He trailed off, staring at the road, flicking the heating in the car up a little. Carol nodded thoughtfully, making an appreciative sound. They were both silent before she said quietly, "I just don't know what to believe anymore. It just feels inevitable."

"Don't be silly. You're even better than you were at the prison. We have to adapt to our environment, you know?" he replied, shifting in his seat, glancing at her ruffling her somewhat gray hair, his expression softening. She wasn't nearly as old as she looked, and to him she was absolutely gorgeous. "You're shining on. You're an example to all of us..." He paused, before adding somberly, "And to no one more than me."

Carol didn't seem to know what to say, looking down at her hands. They switched to small talk for the rest of the drive, Daryl in understanding Carol needed a little time to process.

Later, when they had set up another camp and Michonne was showing Daryl the map, pointing out their destination and where they were current, and he nodded, his hand on Carol's knee while she ate. Rick was grinning and holding Judith, before suddenly everyone went quiet and looked at him and the little girl. Daryl thought he had missed something when Rick prompted to baby, saying softly, "Honey, say Dada."

"Dada!" Judith squealed, giggling and squirming in his arms. Everyone smiled and Carol held her hand over her mouth. "Dada! Da!" Judith giggled again, playing with her father's beard. Daryl bit his lip, smirking a little.

Carol turned to him suddenly, taking his hand, surprising him. He looked over at her questioningly, meeting her eyes. She kissed his lips gently, and briefly so nobody really paid attention, whispering, "I believe you now. We aren't ashes."

"We're together," Daryl murmured, nuzzling her shoulder a little, "Together we'll burn a new fire."


	4. Air Conditioning

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

"It's so hot!" Carol whined, fanning herself with a pad of paper. Daryl couldn't help but stare at her a little, attracted to her even when she wasn't sweating. The Atlanta summers were more brutal than their winters with how hot it could get. The sun was beating down on them where they were on watch and he leaned forward, licking his lips a little. "I wish we had some air conditioning."

"I could get a battery-powered fan," Daryl suggested raspily, following a bead of sweat running to her breasts tantalizingly, swallowing hard. His throat felt dry from lust alone but he made himself resist because it would do nothing to cool them off. "We could take a swim..."

Carol moaned and his knees almost buckled, his breathing becoming a little heavy. "Both of those sound soooo good," she groaned, stretching out on the ground, frowning when it only made her warmer, whining, "I wanna go somewhere with air conditioning."

"Yes," Daryl hissed, helping her up, "Would be great if we could live in a fuckin' mall or something." They both burst into laughter then at the thought of it, but quickly quieted and straightened when the leaves rustled, Daryl tensing up bit defensively.

Glenn and Maggie emerged and he relaxed, glancing them over inquisitively, before Glenn smirked, saying knowingly, "You guys look like you could use a break. We'll take over from here. Go cool off somewhere."

Carol practically lit up and Daryl looked rather relieved, saying, "Thanks, man." They walked past them and he waited until they were out of view before grabbing her hand, running toward the lake they had stopped near and jumping into the water, taking her with him. He heard her squeal and felt her cling to him desperately as they plunged into the cool water. They resurfaced, gasping and laughing. Daryl smirked, sinking into the water until only above his nose was available, swimming in a circle around her, playfully nipping her. Out of sight of the others, he could be playfully out of character when he wanted to, but mostly "played" and did everything in his own rather feral ways.

Carol giggled, tackling him and he grinned, splashing her with water and swimming away. "While we're out here, we could catch some fish," he said when she swam after him and batted at his ankles. He smirked and planted his feet on the bank, but turned thoughtful when she did the same and asked, "But what would we catch them with?"

Daryl contemplated before winking at her, slipping off his vest and tossing it on the bank, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, causing Carol's lips to part as she stared at him, taking in the sight. He slid the drenched shirt off his shoulders, handing her one end. "Wanna see if we could get something?"

Carol nodded, grasping it, moving where he directed her to, slowly lowering it into the water. She watched Daryl's face; he had slowly gotten over his self-consciousness of removing his shirt around her to the point he seemed fairly comfortable with it, and the heat was at the same time an exception. She avoided staring at his scars so he didn't start acting awkward, instead focusing on his abs and chest before her gaze rose to his face. She snapped out of her daze when she heard Daryl prompting her with a firm, "Now!"

Together, they lifted his shirt out of the water, a fish sure enough squirming in it. He grinned triumphantly and they moved it to the bank, sliding it onto the grass and he removed his knife from his belt, stabbing it so it died instantly. He dipped the blade in the water before putting it back, pulling his sodden shirt on. "Good fishing," he said, and she blushed a little, watching him. "Still wish you had air conditioning?"

"I always wish I had air conditioning!" Carol complained loudly, splashing him again, and he made a noise, splashing her right back. "Stop splashing me!"

"You started it!" Daryl shot back, and she just pouted, splashing him again. He growled, eyeing her before giving her a dark, cunning look she knew too well. She squeaked, swimming away as fast as she could, but he caught her, throwing her over his shoulder and swimming out to the deepest part of the water. "You are a naughty, naughty girl. You need to learn a lesson," he growled.

"Daryl!" Carol protested, kicking her feet until he grabbed her ankles, "Put me downnnn! You're too hot! Please! You're no fair!"

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said cheekily, before suddenly saying, "But I'll put you down." He then threw her into the water, causing another fit of girlish squeals. He smirked until she suddenly bowled him over into the water, making him go under for a moment, pouting just faintly when she grinned down at him. "You don't play fair!"

"You didn't either!" Carol shot back, protesting, "I never get to play... unfair!" She struggled to maintain a good argument, but any protests she had left to make melted to nothing when he grabbed her and kissed her hard to silence her and his nails digging into her skin. He nudged her back toward the bank, hoisting her up near the water where it would be cooler, nipping her neck. His breath was warm on her neck but she didn't mind; the breeze along the bank sheltered them with cooler air and the water touched their feet every now and again.

"You think Rick will mind if we're gone just a little longer?" he breathed huskily, sucking her earlobe, earning a moan from her, and she shook her head frantically, mewling and grabbing at him. "Good... We'll tell him we needed time to cool off."

Carol purred, nodding, her lips seeking his again. "If we ever get air conditioning, I won't let you leave for a week..."

"Deal."


	5. Snowcones

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

It upset her that she couldn't have ice cream anymore. All she wanted once in a while was a little ice cream, especially during that special time in the month. He knew it very well, too. So when winter came, she had never been happier. Carl had bundled Judith up and taken her out in the snow, and Michonne had built a snowman to look like Rick playfully, much to his grudging revelation. Everyone was having fun in their own way, except Daryl. He didn't seem to understand the winter fun; she teased him and called him a humbug. He wouldn't listen to her, just grumbling and walking off.

She didn't hold it against him, but he needed to lighten up. He was always so edgy about the holiday season just because of the lack of game. He wouldn't join in when anyone offered, just sit around and sulk in the house, grumbling to the point Carol teased he might attract walkers with it, which made him grumble more and she would shut him up with a kiss or a push into the bedroom. He had practically dragged his feet when the group had decided to set up a Christmas tree as discreetly as they possibly could, sighing exasperatedly. She just giggled and made him go anyway, giving him the promise of a reward in some form.

But now she was determined to make him have some fun. She tried everything; she threw snowballs at him, she tackled him when he walked by, she drew a crossbow in the snow... Everything in the world she could think of, but he still wouldn't budge, just growling and continuing on his way. He could be so cranky sometimes that she wanted to wipe the scowl off his face. The one thing she hadn't tried was snowcones. It was the closest she could get to ice cream, too, so she was excited to do it, even on her own. She collected packets of flavoring from runs and hid them in a cupboard he never used.

One day, when he came home from a hunt, she was standing on the porch, beaming at him. He gave her an odd look; usually she was inside keeping warm by the fire. He eyed her, before stopping, saying in a surprising gentle tone, respecting he was talking to his wife, "What?"

She held out one of the cups full of snow to him. "Have one. What flavor do you want?" she asked, looking up at him innocently, seeking his approval a little desperately.

Daryl looked surprised, looking down at the little cup, frowning a little. "Snowcones...?" he said uncertainly, looking up at her. She nodded, beckoning him and bouncing inside. He followed at her heels, setting his crossbow aside, walking over to the counter with her and peering at the box.

"What flavor do you want?" Carol asked cheerfully, pointing out each one, picking one out for herself, apparently the flavor of iced tea, to which he looked a little bewildered.

He looked down again, frowning in concentration this time, picking through the packets, uttering in confusion, "Where did you find these?" He slowly picked up a strawberry one at last, decidedly not having tasted strawberries in quite a while. He tore it open, staring at it uncertainly, having never really made a snowcone before.

Carol giggled, taking the packet and pouring it onto the snow, rattling it around a bit, offering him a spoon but finding he used his mouth instead. "I collected them, for any purpose."

Daryl just gave an appreciative groan, devouring the snowcone hungrily. She looked amused as she watched him tear through it, saying softly, "You must like it." Daryl didn't make much more than an "mm!", too busy shoveling it down his throat. She laughed at the sight. He was having fun.

Winter in the apocalypse wasn't so bad after all.


	6. Defend

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

He was mad. He was more than mad. He was pissed off.

Oh, but not Daryl, oh no. Certainly not Daryl.

Rick had been having one of those bad, bad days as a leader and a parent where he could snap at just about anyone, one of those cranky days the pressure of leadership gave. Daryl had been doing everything asked of him; hunting, organizing runs, checking to make sure everyone was okay and everyone in their small family had what they needed, and he had been having a rather happy day, which was rare to see anymore for him to be walking around smiling and making casual small talk with Maggie or Glenn or whoever else. He even gave Carol a peck of the cheek before he had left for hunting early in the morning.

It was getting late and they had served dinner. Carol had made what she could with what Daryl had caught and skinned for her, and he had even helped her cook a little; she had found in recent times he wasn't actually that bad of a cook. Not too shabby for a redneck with only the experience of frying game, she thought in another time and another life he might have done alright had he been some kind of chef in a restaurant. Everyone was happily eating while Rick paced around, trying to hush Judith who was fussy now that she had begun to teethe. They hadn't yet been able to find any teething rings on any runs.

Daryl was beginning to look nervous and got up to offer him a sturdy bone for the infant to try to gnaw on in place of a ring, heading over to him. There was his hushed voice and the unsettled silence in the group due to Rick's foul mood, and Carol watched closely, keeping an eye on Rick.

Indeed, Daryl was the one he snapped at. His right-hand man was of course a target to his mood by default, although Rick had never yelled at him before. Rick spun around abruptly, and began yelling, "Jesus Christ, Daryl, if I wanted a dog, I'd get one! I can take care of it myself, why don't you just go sit down? What do you know about babies anyway, you've never had one, now have you! Why don't you try being a father and taking care of a cranky baby so you don't attract any walkers, huh?"

Daryl flinched and hunched his shoulders, seeming to shrink. He didn't say anything, just took a step back. His abused reflexes seemed to have gotten better but in the face of being yelled at by a man that was a brother to him, he was clearly hurt although trying not to show it, a reaction similar to what he would have done in the face of Merle's often verbal abuse. His face fell to look rather dejected, biting his lip, flinching a bit more when Rick got close to his face.

Suddenly, Carol was there, pushing Rick back gently, standing in front of Daryl. Her gaze was hard and she wasn't sure she had any right to speak after what she had done in the prison, before saying firmly, "Rick, that was unfair. You know it was. Daryl's been working all day to keep everyone happy. You know he's been doing everything he can to get you supplies, we're just not in a place any baby-related stores are nearby, cut him a break. He's been working his ass off and he's still been in a good mood all day! So what if he's never had a baby, he took care of yours half the time at the prison! He'd make a great father, he will make a great father someday. That baby isn't cranky, she's in pain, don't you remember what it's like to lose a tooth? Well, imagine that but ten times worse because you're getting all your teeth!" Everyone looked a bit stunned, but especially after she had said "will" about Daryl being a parent.

"Carol..." Daryl started, but he was quickly cut off when Carol continued.

"Now, he's my man and he contributes to the group a huge amount! Lay off!"

Carol growled, dusting herself off and stormed off to the car they had been sleeping in, slamming the door. Rick stood still for several moments before bouncing the baby again, who had begun to cry more because of the argument, saying softly, "I'm sorry, Daryl..."

Daryl nodded a little, glancing from him to the car before darting off after her. Carol was sulking, glaring at the dash when he got in, glancing up just a little, hissing, "Sourpuss apologize?"

Daryl suddenly grabbed her, pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head, burying his face in her neck and hugging her, murmuring with a chuckle, "Yeah, calm down, pookie... Thank you."

Carol pouted for several moments longer, a little mockingly, before curling her arms around him, sighing. He propped his chin on top of her head, his thumb stroking her back, giving a little contented purr when Carol whispered, "I have to protect my pookie."

"Damn straight."


	7. Relax

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

"Relax."

That's what he always told her, even when he had a wild temper more than he could handle. The most "zen" of the group had been a huge hypocrite and practically exploded at the push of a button. He was much tamer now; feral but tamed by family enough to control his temper. He wasn't guns blazing, guts and glory anymore, he was just a man who sat back and looked at the big picture. He wasn't a boy anymore, he had matured into a man with real insight and real maturity, someone who could raise a good family and be a loyal man to them.

And he was a lot happier now. Back then, he would either be pissed or antisocial or closed off. Now, he had begun to speak his mind and he could crack a smile, lick his fingers and shake your hand to say hello. He was much more relaxed then when they had first met to the point she would admit now he could say the word and not sound silly.

She was upset because the area was making her uncomfortable. He sat down by her, putting his hand on her shoulder, beginning to massage it, mirroring a time long ago before they had been together that he had done the same. He looked out where she was, repeating, "Relax. We're fine."

"I can't," she grumbled stubbornly, but her voice cracked as he continued to massage the stiff muscles. He moved behind her, rubbing his hands together, beginning to massage her firmer and with more force to disentangle the knots. Carol groaned, leaning forward a bit, and he smirked to himself a little. "We need to get moving again. What's taking Rick so looooong...?" There was a little moan at the end of her sentence he didn't miss, backtracking to target the area that had caused it again for a moment.

Daryl was silent for several long moments, concentrating on soothing her muscles, licking his lips and working on the other half of her back. He knew her body so well now he could map every sensitive spot blindfolded. He dug the heels of his hands into her spine, causing her to groan. "Well, he has to find the best route with Michonne. You know how it is, we need to be as safe as possible," he said in reply.

"Or they're having fun doing other things." She snickered when Daryl made a noise of what sounded like horror, purring, "Oh, come on, he probably makes that same reaction whenever Michonne brings us up. We're as bad as Glenn and Maggie and you know it."

Daryl paused in his ministrations and she knew without looking at him that he was blushing. He then grunted, trying to brush it off and continuing the massage, saying with a hint of concern, "God, you're all knotted up..."

Carol made an appreciative moan, rolling her neck, complaining, "Tell me about it!"

"Relax!" Daryl shot back, causing Carol to emit a noise of unhappiness, squeaking when he slapped her on the back lightly in response, an attempt to be scolding. "There ain't nothing to worry about. Can't you trust me?"

Carol sighed, seeming hesitant, before saying softly, "Yes." She turned her head to look at him, murmuring, "You know I do."

"Then stop worrying. If I think something bad is going to happen, then I would tell you. I wouldn't lie to you, Carol."

"Okay," she said after a long moment, hesitating before adding gratefully, "Thank you."

Daryl nodded, responding, "Mm. Anytime." He shifted, and they fell into a comfortable silence as he finished the massage, before he loudly complained, "Glenn took one of my arrows today to play fuckin' darts!"

Carol burst into laughter, doubling over immediately while Daryl pouted unhappily, looking down and grumbling. He looked up at her when she turned to him, giggling and pulling him to his feet, pushing him into the tent she had set up and onto the bed, climbing on top of him, hissing in his ear:

"Relax."


	8. Snuggle the Pookie

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

He wouldn't say it out loud, but he loved snuggling. And Carol knew it.

Every chance he got when they were alone and safe, he would snuggle up to her; not that she was complaining because he was like her own personal heater. After sex, snuggling. Before bed, snuggling. Struggling to get him up in the mornings, snuggling. Snuggling was the answer to all his problems. If he was mad, she could shut him up with a kiss, but he was really just a giant teddy bear after he had gotten past his initial fear of physical contact. She had to admit she loved it too, because it was one of the times he was most capable of showing his affections for her. When he was snuggling her, he would do the little things a couple should do with each other that he didn't normally because everyone else was around.

He had come home late. She could hear him dragging his precious crossbow as he ducked into the little shack they were occupying the group had built up for now. He had supplied little bits of furniture to make it a little more homely, trying to impress her no matter how many times she tried to reassure him he didn't need to try so damn hard. He ignored her, as stubborn as a bull just like her when it came to something he set his mind on.

She listened as it prattled around when he hoisted it onto the rack, humming to himself a little. She opened her eyes from the little mattress in the corner of the room, tucking the blanket over her nose, watching him kick off his shoes. She quickly squeezed her eyes shut when he turned and started walking toward her, luckily before he noticed she was awake. She enjoyed spying on him a little when he came home late because she knew he would be too tired to give her much of a kick, so she settled for silently drooling over the eye candy that was his body. She listened for the faintest noises of his nearly silent footfalls. He paused, seeming to assume she was asleep as she had intended, pulling the poncho over his head and kneeling down. She felt surprise course through her when he draped his beloved poncho over her small, delicate body. She made a noise of happiness, curling into herself, and he felt himself smile involuntarily.

As he turned away, she opened her eyes, watching him shed his vest and then begin to strip out of his clothes down to his boxers, seeking the pair of pajama pants she had scavenged for him after complaining his clothes were filthy when he came back. He grudgingly accepted them, and had become accustomed to leaving his shirt off after becoming more comfortable with the relationship, but on the condition that his back never faced the door. She agreed happily; and he was like an oversized heater so in the cold she made sure he had a clean shirt to sleep in. It was only autumn, though, so there was no need for it yet, as it was still fairly crisp and warm and he got up early on anyway.

He crawled onto the mattress beside her, pulling the blanket over himself as well, and started to settle when she rolled over. She threw her arms around him, surprising him though anymore he didn't jump or flinch, pecking his lips. He nuzzled her, kissing her back just a little, giving her a tender butterfly kiss. Then, his arms curled around her and pressed her to him, curling up around her with his knees pressing the small of her back, as if he could protect her from all the danger in the world except himself. His hair was a slight shorter now after nagging from Carol, just enough that he could see better.

Carol nuzzled her head under his chin, curling her fingers against his chest, closing her eyes again, listening to his heartbeat as he exhaled contentedly. "How was your day?" she murmured, feeling his calloused fingers tracing her spine under the blanket, her body quivering to welcome the touch. "Did your hunt go well?"

Daryl hummed just a bit in response, before murmuring in response, "Yeah, caught a lot of squirrels... Rick thinks we should try to aim for some place that might be colder. But we only talking about it right now." He shuffled closer, snuggling her, burying his face in the crook of her neck and she purred at his warmth.

"If you think it's the right thing to do," Carol whispered, tracing her fingers over his chest. He didn't say anything, and she assumed he had fallen asleep, before gasping a little when he playfully licked her neck, nuzzling her again, allowing a more vulnerable side of him to come out. He tightened into a firmer ball around her, her curled up position allowing it easier, cocooning her against him, his arms tightening around her.

"How was yours?"

"It was okay," she said softly, her fingers creeping up to curl around his neck and play with his hair. He couldn't force down the resulting catlike purr, enjoying it when she played with his unruly locks. "I missed you, pookie..." She tugged on his hair a little, causing his drowsy purrs to increase. She playfully pouted at him a little when he opened one eye, the blue reflecting in the moonlight brilliantly. "Should call in sick tomorrow!"

"Missed you too," he said muffledly, kissing her jaw. He ran his hands up and down her back, snorting and responding, "Wish I could. We haven't had nearly enough time together lately. But Rick pushed my watch forward a little bit, I get a few extra hours in tonight..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah..."

Carol smirked, hooking a leg over his hips and pulling him on top of her, growling, "Well, can the archer come out and play then?"

She asked him even as she was curling his fingers in his pants, and he knew he didn't have much of a decision. One slender flick of her finger over his crotch had him wide awake and nodding rapidly, kissing her with more fervor this time and running his hands down the silky skin, growling back, "Anything for you, my queen."

* * *

Later, they were snuggled up to each other with Daryl curled tightly around her again, Carol playing with the slim expanse of chest hair. He was purring softly, the rumble of his chest soothing her. He sighed as she moved closer and kissed him, returning it and leaning his forehead against hers, the blanket bundled tightly around them and Carol now wearing his poncho, pulling his pants up. They always cleaned up in the morning so she didn't have to worry about getting up, and neither did he. They had both agreed that while any new life might be difficult and rough on them, and though Carol had suffered so much tragedy already, Daryl had said if it was what fate decided it to be, they should accept it and she trusted him. He wasn't worrying about it and she wasn't either.

He rumbled with a louder purr before it began to dim, snuggling her as she fell asleep, whispering, "You're safe in my arms."


	9. Speak Your Mind

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

He always had something to confess. The little things he thought and the little things he forgot. Any way it rolled, it almost always made Carol smile or laugh. It proved his affections for her in these little ways no one could understand. Perhaps it was because he had never had someone to call his own before, and because he struggled to say what he meant in words consciously, so in the subconscious moments he would always absently say something he didn't mean to say out loud, or sometimes did. He was like a meek little lamb, bashful when it came to love, but on the outside gritty and hardened. There was a softer man underneath, a man who still believed in the inherent good in the world.

"I liked you first."

This time it came from him and she turned to smirk and argue it, but before she could get a word out, he blurted, "I was an outcast but you were still so fucking beautiful that I wanted to knock Ed's lights out." She wanted to ask why, opening her mouth but no words came out, her eyes wide with awe and her cheeks pink despite herself. Seeming to get what she was try to say, he continued quickly, "But you were a married woman and I had to respect that because I respect women and, and now you... you should marry me, because... because I... and I know I'll be shit at it, but..."

He fumbled on his words like a total idiot and he wanted to kick himself. He was a man of few words so this was hard for him, when he confessed like this. Nevertheless, he boldly stepped toward her in the building they were scouting, putting on his best brave face. They had dated for a little while now after recovering from the trauma of the hospital, which still bothered them both but he was glad she was alright at the same time. He was never happier than the moment she suddenly squealed and threw her arms around him.

"You look so hot with that sniper rifle, baby."

Another one of those times, when they were alone together on watch. He was smirking at her devilishly from where he was seated on the log. She was surprised again, looking over at him uncertainly, finding herself doubting Daryl Dixon of all people had said that. He was slowly but surely less shy with the more physical aspects of their relationship. Then, she gave him that flirty smile, crooning, "Wanna repeat that, pookie?"

Daryl tilted his head, seeming to contemplate, smiling a little himself before resting his head on the butt of his crossbow. He didn't say anything, just gave her this sultry stare she was finding hard to resist. After a moment, he said, "God, you're just hot in general. Or maybe it's the heat. I dunno, it's making me pretty hot-"

Next thing he knew he was knocked to the ground and a certain queen was straddling him, working at removing his belt. Who knew Daryl could talk a little dirty.

"I missed you!"

The one she heard when he was in a good mood or gone for a few days, he would fly over to her and slam her into the ground like a lost puppy. If they were alone, he would treat her to being practically bathed in kisses, and he made it a tradition to bring her home a chocolate bar. He would smile crookedly and listen to her munch happily while he polished his crossbow, overjoyed he could keep a wife happy.

"I'm sorry."

The confession varied. If they were arguing, once his temper passed, he would shrink and back up. She would recognize herself in him and know she had gone too far if he recoiled like a kicked puppy, looking at the ground and whispering the words in an almost inaudible tone. She could never stay mad at him purely because of it, and they would both end up apologizing profusely to each other, trying to fix it, trying to make it better.

Other times he would say it as a joke, smirking and saying it very sarcastically. If he was angry, the tone would become even more sarcastic and there would no doubt be a hurtful comment that followed. The times he came back to camp late, it would be spoken crawling into bed and breathing against her neck. The time he had accidentally shot her in the arm with an arrow, there were tender, loving words that followed the apology. The one she had to say she favored the most was when she had the control over him in bed and he knew it.

"I like it when you keep me company."

He was always absent-minded when it came to comments now that he was more accustomed to speaking his mind. He looked over at her with his big, blue eyes, searching hers before skipping pebbles along the water while they walked to set up some traps. Over time, he had begun to take her on some of his hunting expeditions, proving just how far his affection extended. She had never heard him speak the words out loud until now, and she had to admit that it made her happy to know.

He chuckled then, scuffing the dirt with his shoes that were beginning to wear down. "Everything's always better with two," he continued, for once, rather than shutting down the thought and going on his way, walking closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist, fiddling with the strap to his crossbow, "Even the others get annoying sometimes. You don't. You're fun. And you're mine."

She just smiled a little and accepted to comments, unsure if she should break the positive mood by making a joke. Every morning he would outright say he loved her and every night as she fell asleep, getting over the fact it was mushy out of acceptance this world they lived in might be cruel at any moment. During the time in between, he had his round about way of saying it unless it was a special occasion... for instance, every time she opened the door to let him in, he would be holding a dead squirrel out by the tail. It grossed her out a little but it was adorable. "Thank you, Daryl."

They shared a brief kiss and stepped into the woods.

"I forgot our anniversary!"

Sure, they couldn't really give gifts unless they took things from runs, and he couldn't give her anything huge and extravagant, but the fact he had forgotten without planning at least something small made her so angry his meek apology was ignored. The shriek had practically rung around camp, and Rick looked at Michonne, raising his eyebrows and saying, "Well, that spells trouble for any couple."

By the time his lecture was over, he was left looking like a sad, lost kitten and unsure what to say after she had hissed at him for a good time. He tried to crawl into bed with her but she kicked him out to sleep on the floor. They could barely keep track of the date anymore but it wasn't entirely impossible. He would remember not to forget next time. The next morning, he made her breakfast instead of going out to hunt after coming to Rick with his tail between his legs begging to take a day away, which he had smirked knowingly and granted. He even boiled water and made her coffee himself, letting her sleep in and placing the gift of a gold necklace with a ruby heart pendent with "Daryl loves Carol" harshly scratched into it as neatly as he could in peace offering. He was rewarded with her happy tears and being pinned to the floor.

However, her favorite confession came years and years later. After managing to forge a safe haven with everyone as a family and then deciding to raise a child, which ended up being two, a boy and girl, they were still content in their life together. Daryl would always love her and she knew it well. Carol had been especially worried over the girl but years of relative safety reassured her and he quieted the fears.

It was in the late autumn when the flowers had begun to recede for winter. He had collected the last bouquet full of them and come home holding them behind his back. He handed them to her when he came in, saying, "Happy anniversary."

She had stared at them in awe, inspecting every exotic flower he had managed to bundle up and looking up at him. Scurrying to put them in water, she then hugged him tightly, kissing him passionately, curling her fingers in his shirt after running her fingers through the dark brown hair that was beginning to get streaks of gray though he was still fit as a fiddle. He gently grasped her wrists, kissing her back and pulling back to lean his forehead against hers, whispering a confession that made her heart flutter and soar, one she cherished until the end of her days.

"I am still painting flowers for you."


	10. Fantasies and Fairytales

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

I wanted to combine these two prompts, so here is the other one: "Prompt: Judith wants a story. Daryl reinvents the story of Snow White to something more relatable for a child growing up in a zombie apocalypse. With help from Carol." I had a little trouble adapting the story so forgive me!

"Now, you take the needle, loop it through the hole, cross it over and... there! Nice, neat little stitch. You want to try and finish it?"

"Yeah!" Judith replied, grinning and eagerly taking the needle and thread and Daryl's shirt, humming and swinging her legs. The apocalypse had always been life to her since she was old enough to have much of a constant thought, so it didn't seem to phase her very much. In fact, she was a happy, giggly child.

Daryl started to turn the corner to bring home the game he had caught but froze at the sounds of Carol instructing Judith to sew. He stepped back into the shadows, discreetly peering at them, watching silently. He watched Judith move the needle to and fro along the rip in his shirt, mending it perfectly like Carol would have. He smiled to himself. His wife was truly a perfect teacher.

The more he watched though, the more he started to realize. And the more he started to realize, the more he could imagine. He watched the two girls having a good time and found himself helpless to thinking this is what it would be like if they had kids. They hadn't, because Carol either wasn't ready or all in all they had decided it would be better not to. They hadn't discussed it much yet, like the beginning of their relationship, but eventually they would come to a verbal decision. After all, they were only in their thirties.

* * *

He shook himself, forcing it out of his mind and stepping out from the shadows, greeting them.

"Uncle, can you tell me a story?"

"What?" Daryl started, looking rather taken aback. He wasn't very good at stories, or so he thought, nor very creative. "Why are you asking me? Why not ask your aunt?"

Judith just grinned that semi-toothy grin. She had pulled out one of her baby teeth not too long ago. Rick had never taught her the tooth fairy story, and instead the group had scrambled to find her some nice jewelry for pulling out her first tooth- literally. Everyone had gone into a panic about it. Family life was almost normal among them. She waved her arms a little against the firelight, exclaiming, "You seem like a really good storyteller!"

Daryl frowned, looking down, not saying anything, contemplating. Judith began to look disappointed after a long moment, returning to eating and seeming to damper the mood of the rest of the group, before Carol suddenly spoke up. "Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a beautiful little girl born... She grew into a beautiful young woman and her father forced her to be wed to an evil man."

Daryl suddenly jumped in, saying softly, "The evil man wanted her dead so he could inherit the throne after her father couldn't be King anymore. The land was barren because of his evil spirit, filled with monsters and walkers. One day, he sent one of his servants, an archer, to take the beautiful woman to the woods to get rid of her... You see, the archer was actually a Prince, but he wanted to be a normal man. He was enchanted by the Princess since the day he met her. He drew his bow and arrow but could not let it fly... and she begged him that if he let her go, she would run away into the woods and never be seen again."

Carol smiled, catching one. She paused, before continuing softly, "The woman found a house in the woods with seven little children. They all helped each other live together and they made sure everyone was fed and healthy. She lived with them and did their laundry, cooked their dinner, and sang them to sleep. It was perfect, much better than living at the castle where she was always so sad..."

Daryl shifted so he was more comfortable, some of the other muffling snickers at the story when he scooted closer to Carol, putting a hand on her knee. "The archer Prince told the evil man that she was gone. Alas, when he consulted with a magical mirror, he found she was not. So instead, he disguised himself as an old farmer, traveling through the monsters and walkers to find the young woman. He offered her bread and food for her children, leading her deeper into the woods to show her something. But it was a trick, and a walker bit her, enchanting her into a deep sleep..."

Carol smiled and placed her hand over his, knowing Judith was yet much too young to be explained the concept of death until she was at least six or seven. "The beautiful girl, Snow White, could only be awakened by a kiss of true love. The children brought her back to the house and the archer Prince came by to see her. With just one kiss, she awoke from her slumber... The king was no longer, so she married the Prince instead and banished the evil man..."

Carol smiled, patting his knee, urging him to finish the story. He made a meek sound in the back of his throat, before continuing in almost a murmur, "Without the evil, the walkers all vanished. The land flourished and everyone was happy. The couple had three little girls... and maybe one more. And they lived... happily ever after..."

Everyone clapped their hands, and Judith looked in awe. Suddenly, out of the blue, she said, "You're talking about you and auntie, uncle Daryl!"

Daryl laughed, smirking a little, slapping his knee, mockingly saying, "Aww, I been caught, ain't I, honey?"

Carol just purred a little, pecking his lips, giving him a little nuzzle, patting his chest, whispering in his ear, referring to the end of the story with the children, "We'll talk."

Daryl grinned stupidly, allowing Judith to hug him, rubbing her back. "The story was beaaauuutiful, uncle," she bubbled, starting to get sleepy from dinner.

Rick rose from his spot, wandering over to them and lifting her up, saying softly, "And it's time for little princesses to go to bed..." He looked over at Daryl, mouthing, "Thank you." He gave him a thumbs up, winking at Daryl before wandering to their shelter.

Daryl softened, smiling to himself, walking with Carol back to where they had been staying.

Tonight had been a good night.

Everyone was starting to dream again.


	11. Breathe

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

I was wanting some baby Caryl feels, so if you don't like the idea of it, you can skip this one! Kind of cutesy and short so forgive me!

When he had been an outcast, he had panic attacks at first. He was used to passing through towns, passing through faces, but he wasn't used to the big crowd. When the apocalypse first started, their band was fairly big and he wasn't used to it. She noticed. She knew. She helped him, even though he didn't want her to touch him. She would stay at a distance, stepping him through it, repeating over and over until he finally got the message, "Just breathe."

By the time they were with the crowd at the prison, he was no longer anxious. His throat didn't close up, his heart no longer palpitated, and he slowly grew used to the bustle and the compliments.

Now, years ahead, she was practically crushing his hand. He gritted his teeth but not as much as her- although due to Ed's careless nature, she had given a natural birth before. She would do it again in the apocalypse and she told herself she would be fine or give Daryl this motherfucking baby. She bit back her screams the best she could, even shoved a blanket in her mouth to muffle it. Maggie was helping it along with teaching from her father she could remember, while Daryl had fetched hot water and towels before obediently settling at his mate's side.

She didn't even yell or scream at him for making her have the kid... Not that he really made her. It had just happened. They had accepted it with a good part fear and another part anticipation. Luckily for her, the baby wasn't giving them any issues. "Just breathe," Daryl repeated over and over like a mantra, "Just breathe. Love ya, just breathe."

After what seemed like utterly and ultimately ages, the baby was finally born and Maggie made sure the bleeding settled enough for her to clean everything up and help Daryl with scissors to cut the cord. His hands shook and he was incredibly nervous but at the same time happier than he had ever been. Was this what being a parent felt like? He held the little, tiny baby and cleaned it up, sniffling a little and allowing Maggie to check the baby boy over before finally bundling it up in some warmer clothes. When he looked over, Carol was already passed out, pale but her breathing strong and steady.

For a long time, Daryl just stood there and swung the little baby in his arms, humming soft lullabies until it fell asleep, kissing the top of its head. There was an old crib set up by the bed and he lay the baby boy there, tucking him into some blankets. It was very late in the evening now and he had been hunting earlier, but been dragged away shortly after when Carl came running to tell him to come back. He walked over to the mattress and crawled in beside her, pressing up to her to keep her warm, closing his eyes.

It had never felt better to breathe.


	12. Burden

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

"You are not a burden. You have a burden which is simply too heavy to carry by yourself."

Daryl had found it among the text in the self-help book. He had both highlighted it and circled it. A reminder to both of them, he told himself, that they were useful to the group. It's what he should have told Carol when she had tried to leave. Why hadn't he? He could be so stupid sometimes.

Now, Beth was gone and everyone was hurting, but they were all doing things as usual except Maggie and him. He couldn't even hunt without falling on his knees and breaking down. What was wrong with him? He couldn't figure it out. He couldn't sort himself out. He was becoming useless because he couldn't do anything without looking positively dead inside and only giving a half-hearted effort on it. It seemingly had become his way of life, though he wouldn't say it out loud.

Everything seemed to spiral from there. It seemed like Carol was watching him every time he turned around but he decided not to lash out or say anything. The good part of him knew she had been through enough and he could hold his temper best with her now. He just ignored her and continued on his way. He knew he was probably letting his friendship slip away and she needed him but he was so lost he didn't know which way to turn.

He almost made the same decision as her. Somewhere in his mind he tried to connect the dots, and to himself had figured it must be all his fault Carol had gotten into an accident and Beth was kidnapped. It had to be his fault. There was no other explanation. The thought only made it ten times rougher. He wanted to leave so nobody else got hurt because of him. He tried to pretend he was going hunting and gone into the woods as silently as possible.

"What are you doing?"

The words stopped him dead in his tracks. He was shaking and he knew it. He kept his head down, unable to bring himself to turn around. He could hear her coming up behind him. He bit his lip, frozen to the spot, unable to tell himself to move. Finally, after a long moment, he replied, "I don't know."

She put a hand on his shoulder and he didn't flinch. He couldn't bring himself to flinch if he even wanted to or jerk his shoulder away, he was just frozen. Some part of him wanted to hear what she had to say. He didn't look at her, just swallowed hard and shuffled his feet a little. "It's not your fault. What could you have done?"

"I could have kept an eye on her," he said immediately, almost paralleling the time long ago with Sophia. No pain visibly came to Carol's face and she kept her composure, knowing he needed her right now. She let her hand drift from his shoulder to his elbow gradually so he wouldn't startle.

"She was a responsible young woman..." When she didn't get any response from him, she sighed, moving her hand to his wrist and curling her fingers tightly there. She tugged him to turn around and he obeyed, hunching up a little submissively, hiding his face behind his long hair. After a long moment of silence, Carol unexpectedly said quietly, "Lizzie went crazy and killed Mika to try to prove walkers wanted friends. I had to... put her down."

Daryl's attention was immediately captured, his head snapping up as if someone has turned on a switch. He opened his mouth to say something but words wouldn't come out. He took a step closer, giving her a little nuzzle away from the prying eyes of the group, as comfortingly as he could. She didn't say anything now and he realized it would be foolish to leave because they needed each other as much as the other. She still needed support and he did too. After a long pause, Daryl spoke up, "I'm still here."

She nodded. They were both still here and they knew it. She tugged his hand, trying to encourage him to walk with her. He obeyed and followed her, glancing around for walkers, feeling more alert when she was near. He couldn't lose her too. It would be too much to bear. What would be the point? He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard her speak. "Let's take a day off and talk. You need it."

He felt reluctant because he never, ever took a day off from his daily duties. He started to protest but she cut him off, hissing in a tone that made him complacent, "Rick will understand." He nodded slowly, knowing it was better not to protest. She was right. He was a mess and a little damage control wouldn't hurt. He felt a little better knowing she had his back too. He tried to keep in stride with her, still looking down but feeling a little bit of hope flutter in his chest for the first time since he had seen her wheeled out to him in the hospital.

Maybe he would be alright after all. He was still here. So was she, so were they. They could still start over when they mended the wounds.

"By the way, I found your book..."

Daryl looked down when she thrust it into his hands, peering at it curiously where it was opened. The words circled and highlighted struck a blow to him. "You are not a burden. You have a burden that is simply too heavy to carry by yourself," he repeated slowly before looking up at her.

Carol gave him the tiniest of reassuring smiles, touching his shoulder. "That's us."


	13. Bellybutton

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.  
I wasn't sure if these were all separate words but put together it was hilarious, so...!

He had a weird kink about her bellybutton. She didn't really know what to think of it but he seemed to enjoy it a lot. Well, rather, she didn't really care because it seemed to make him happy. He was kind of like a giant puppy and had to use his animal instincts to interact more often than not. So for whatever reason, he really, really liked licking her bellybutton whenever it was exposed to him. She thought it was silly, but it was his way of being both lighthearted and intimate.

Of course, only her, though. Her stomach seemed to be his most favorite part of her body for whatever reason. More than that, he loved to lick her whenever he could; sometimes, coming home from hunting, he would come up behind her and lick the back of her neck, making her practically jump out of her skin while she mended the buttons on his shirt he always pulled off when he got caught on a tree. He was ridiculously messy when it came to his clothes and he knew it drove her crazy, so he did the best he could to take care of his clothes.

There was just something about that dip in her stomach he was undeniably intrigued with. Perhaps, she thought, it was because it was rather ticklish, so whenever she was upset or cranky when they were alone he would sneak his head up her shirt just a little and lick and she would burst into giggles and squeals. Even in the apocalypse, being tickled was still the worst possible thing that could happen to her ultimately. She told him to stop and pulled on his unruly hair and it would become giggles and tickle fights until eventually one of them ran off in an effort to get away from the other tickling them.

More or less, it was his own little way of showing a bit of affection. That little kink meant so much more than a kink. It was a way for him to tell her he loved her and he wanted her to stay healthy, a way for him to lighten the mood. He was endlessly intrigued by it. She thought maybe it was just the ghost of a man that had barely had a childhood. If nothing else, it lightened the mood when it was appropriate and showed he had a little sense of humor, even if it could seem a little vulgar... or sexual?

"Daryl," Carol moaned, half-asleep, the sunlight filtering in on them, digging her fingers into his scalp through his ridiculously long hair with her tank top pulled up a little while he licked away at the soft skin, "Stooop, you have to go..."

Daryl just made a feral purring sound, but they both froze when they heard a man clear his throat. Rick. He was bright red, taking in the scene, but at the same time smirking. "If you're quite finished, I need to borrow Daryl for a run, actually."

Daryl had turned a deep shade of red and scrambled to his feet, pulling on his vest quickly and buttoning his shirt hurriedly. He grabbed his crossbow and gave Carol a kiss goodbye, scurrying past Rick, who was snickering. "Some kink he has."

Carol just smiled meekly and sat up, rubbing her eyes and fixing her shirt. "We all love Daryl."


	14. Christmas

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

His fingers traced over her skin in the dark, absently humming a tune to her while she dozed. He traced patterns into her skin, a comforting gesture, until she started purring like a cat even though half-asleep. "It's Christmas tomorrow."

"Mhm."

"You okay?"

Carol nuzzled into his side for warmth, nipping his earlobe affectionately and wrapping an arm around his waist. Her breath tickled his ear, whispering, "Yes, but if you don't go to sleep, you might not get any presents tomorrow."

Daryl grumbled but complied, not going to argue against the promise of something interesting. They had been having to share a bed for a while now in Alexandria.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Everybody was having a good time. They had organized a little Christmas party among the group and even a Secret Santa. Maggie and Glenn had even located some alcohol for the occasion, commenting the eggnog had gone stale a long time ago; Glenn was a little green, so it was easy to assume he had had a taste of the eggnog.

Daryl had given Michonne a new sheath for her katana because it was in desperate need of one; it had begun to wear out after some unknown amount of time and Daryl had happened to stumble upon an empty one nearby. Some stupid idiot had only taken the sword, he could only assume. He had helped himself to a little of the alcohol and he was in a reasonably good mood- and reasonably shitfaced wasted. Carol had left him a note on the bottle he had picked up, presumably set aside for him because the note had read:

"Daryl,

Meet me under the mistletoe.

Carol xx"

At first, he was confused about where he would find the mistletoe, partially due to his alcohol intake, but he had remembered they had hung up a little bit of it in the doorway to Rick's house because Judith had seemed rather entertained by it, squealing and giggling and clapping her hands when Rick had been holding it and asking Maggie where he should put it, Daryl smirked a little; she was up to something.

When he arrived, he was surprised to find her dressed up quite neatly in a dress either Michonne or Maggie must have found for her at some point. Smiling warmly at him, she stepped forward and pulled him under the leafy plant, kissing him with fierce passion, pushing her tongue past his lips. He submitted to her easily, opening his mouth to her and battling her tongue for dominance, eventually forcing hers back into her mouth and exploring triumphantly, his fingers finding her waist and curling tightly in the fabric. She giggled when he growled as she pulled back, shyly putting her hand behind her back. It was the first Christmas they were actually all at peace and had time to relax.

"Was the dress a gift?"

"Yes. Do you like it?"

She did a little spin for him, causing it to wave and he practically drooled at the sight, only managing to say huskily, "Yes."

Carol giggled, her cheeks pink from a little alcohol herself. She stepped forward, suggestively tugging one of the buttons on his shirt and his breath hitched a little. "Have you gotten your gift yet?"

Daryl just shook his head, partially too focused on what she was doing with her hands, looking down at the dress curiously. He licked his lips, mentally calculating where the zipper was just in case.

"Good, because I'm your Secret Santa." She smiled slyly; God, what a temptress, and he was damn enchanted by her. This was already one Hell of a Christmas.

He swallowed hard when her hands smoothed down his chest. "Oh?"

"Mhm," Carol replied, wiggling her eyebrows and pushing him up against the doorframe, giving him another passionate kiss. "And you get to take me home and do whatever you want."

Daryl turned even redder, grabbing her waist and kissing her again, grabbing her wrist and starting to lead her away. He stopped when she turned him back to her, putting her hands on his face. She smiled at him, whispering, "You're worth more than anything to me."

Daryl softened, nodding and nuzzling her, deciding since it was Christmas she deserved to hear the words again like she deserved every day. "I love you more than my fucking life."

He pulled her toward the house as quickly as he could, causing her to stumble a little but laugh all the way.

It was a damn good Christmas.

_You're a one of a one  
A one of a kind  
That you only find once in a lifetime  
Made to fit like a fingerprint  
A code that clicks open a gold mine_

_They say one man's trash is another man's treasure_  
_When I found you, it was all pitter-patter_

_Secretly, I hit the lottery_  
_'Cause you're brighter than all of the Northern Lights_  
_You speak to me, even in my dreams_  
_Wouldn't let you go for even the highest price_

_They say one man's trash is another girl's treasure_  
_So if it's up to me, I'm gonna keep you forever_

_'Cause I understand you, we see eye to eye_  
_Like a double rainbow in the sky_  
_And wherever you go, so will I_  
_'Cause a double rainbow is hard to find_

_Was a phenomenon when you came along_  
_Yeah, our chemistry was more than science_  
_It was deafening, loud like lightning, it was striking_  
_You couldn't deny it_

_They say one man's trash is another man's treasure_  
_The two of us together, make everything glitter_

_'Cause I understand you, we see eye to eye_  
_Like a double rainbow in the sky_  
_And wherever you go, so will I_  
_'Cause a double rainbow is hard to find_

_To the bottom of the sea, I'd go to find you_  
_Climb the highest peak to be right beside you_  
_Every step I take, I'm keeping you in mind_

_'Cause I understand you, we see eye to eye_  
_Like a double rainbow in the sky_  
_And wherever you go, so will I_  
_'Cause a double rainbow is hard to find_


	15. Pookie

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

Aaah, I'm not really good at writing Abraham, but I tried :x possibility of OOC.

"Hurry up, Daryl! You're so slow sometimes."

"If you're not going to do it right, you need to go back to camp!"

"You're a God awful hunter, you know that? What, just squirrels? You can't catch anything bigger?"

"You have piss-poor leader skills, why don't you just hang back and let me and Rick do all the work?"

If anything hurt Daryl's self-confidence, it was insults. Abraham was full of them. Day in and day out, he would pester Daryl to do something better since he had returned from the failed trip to DC. Since the incident had occurred, Daryl had been starting to get back on his feet but still shaky on his conscience, and the comments visibly made him crestfallen. He hadn't been very feisty lately, and he didn't want any trouble, so for the most part he had just hung back with his tail between his legs. He was as jumpy as a meerkat these days. His self-confidence was visibly plummeting as time went on but he said nothing.

Carol was worried and she kept trying to step in, but every time, Daryl had stopped her and made her not do anything. She listened to him only because he was still having a rough time of it; more than that, really. He was an absolute mess at the Alexandria home they shared. He left stuff everyone and when he came back, sometimes he would just go straight to bed and curl up. He had lost someone who was like a sister to him. Of course he was still trying to bite the bit again and take a hold of his own reins.

Finally, the day came when she wouldn't be stopped by Daryl's judgment. Daryl had been talking to Rick and vaguely expressing a theory about the possibility of up north territory around the DC area, but at the slightest mention of how Eugene had lied the whole time, he received a sudden strike to the face from Abraham. Daryl fell down, looking up through his curtain of dark hair, starting to snarl when Abraham yelled, "I'll beat your ass, boy! Never mention that again!"

Daryl visibly shrank, looking down submissively, unable to hold eye contact. He had been working at the self-help book, but not since Beth had died. He got up slowly and dusted himself off, distancing himself from the hot-tempered redhead. Rick had seen Carol leave the house immediately after Daryl had been hit and stalk toward them angrily, and decidedly stepped back to let her handle matters.

Out of nowhere, Carol was there to defend him, pushing Abraham back forcefully despite her small size. She looked pissed, in a fighting stance, raising an eyebrow. "You should be ashamed of yourself! That's one of your own, you have no right to hit him! He's provided food for everyone and he's had to deal with a lot of grief at the same time! He's trying to get back into the routine of things and trying to help Rick make decisions! Unlike you, he's been here with us since the beginning and shown great leadership and hunting skills. He could catch a deer if he wanted to, we just haven't seen any lately! He's saved all our asses just as much as I have, you should be saying thank you instead of shitting on him! Grow a pair and get the stick out of your ass. You're like a five year old. He's a man now and acts like one, but you don't act like one. What kind of right do you have to call yourself a man?" Her eyes narrowed, waiting for a response.

When none came, she angrily turned away, softening and grabbing Daryl's hand, pulling him away, growling, "Come on." He didn't even protest, following her all the way back, even having to pick up his pace to a mild trot to keep up. When they got back, she pushed him down on the bathroom counter, rummaging around the supplies she had stored and warming a towel with water, dabbing at the blood on his face. He winced, looking down, still silent.

"You're going to have a nice shiner and some bruises," Carol said gently, beginning to tend to him and apply antiseptic. He braved the stings and she turned the water freezing cold, soaking the towel and pressing it to his eye, having him hold it there. When he only shrugged a little, she tilted his chin up, saying firmly, "Hey... You're one of the most important people here. And the sweetest man. You're going through a lot but you haven't stopped showing that. I'm proud of you, Daryl."

Daryl paused, hesitating, before leaning in, giving her a kiss to her cheek, much to her surprise, though he was still too shaky to take the relationship anywhere right now. Instead, he said softly, shocking her further, "I know. Thank you... for protecting me." He gave a little smile, murmuring playfully with a hint of being flirtatious, though awkward at the same time, "Pookie's sorry for getting hurt."

Carol smiled, ruffling his hair, kissing his good cheek and making him blush. Pursing her lips and smirking, she turned to go back into the kitchen, saying, "Such a good little Pookie."


	16. Operation: Tease Her Back

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

She was a fucking tease. A temptress. Everything she did drew him in; she enchanted him so easily. And she flirted so much easier than him; the true Carol was a natural flirt, and he was gun-shy of it but at the same time it filled him with curiosity and thrilled him. He was the only one she flirted with- it had to mean something. Anything. If he had any skills, he would have tried to flirt back with her, but he didn't know how.

Everything about her was a tease, too. Besides her flirting, she always wore that fucking revealing tank top that when she leaned forward he couldn't help but look down her shirt. Even worse, her hips swayed tantalizingly when she walked and if someone had asked, he would have said she had the finest curves he had ever seen. He licked his lips when he saw her in the morning, he couldn't help it- luckily he was usually eating. Her body language alone turned him on without a doubt but he wasn't really sure how to handle that part of it.

On the bright side, she didn't seem to be specifically seeking out anyone else. The prison was busy but the way she walked and held her head high made him wonder if she was ready for a relationship. He wanted so badly to take it to the next level. But... She was his best friend. He didn't want to ruin that. Feeling caught with what to do, he decided to try a little experiment... a game. He thought about it for a while before smirking and trotting off to hunt, thinking to himself it was rather a secret mission. Operation: Tease Her Back.

This was going to be damn fun.

When he came back, he was sweaty as usual, the top of his shirt unbuttoned. Carol was cooking, and so he leaned against the doorframe, whistling. When she turned around, he shifted to switch the way he was leaning, thrusting the rope of squirrels at her. She caught it with a grin, but it faded a little, her eyes wandering to his chest before snapping back up, smiling vibrantly, pursing her lips and chirping, "Thanks, Pookie."

Daryl smiled, beaming and looking proud of himself, not missing her gaze. He met her eyes challengingly, putting his hands on his hips. "Anytime. Anything else you need?"

It was a weak attempt at a flirt. Carol didn't seem to catch on, smiling again, before shaking her head. She flicked her spoon at him though, purring in what he could have sworn was a sultry tone, "But you are one dirty man, Mr. Dixon."

Daryl smirked a little, mumbling, "Stop," automatically as was ritual. Even so, he stepped forward a little, reaching out and gently touching her shoulder in a ghosting manner, trying again, "You've been working all day, too... Probably need a shower?"

Carol hummed, continuing to be oblivious to his attempts at flirting, shaking her head. Daryl couldn't help but bite his lip, feeling a little discouraged. He leaned over her a little, curiously viewing what she was cooking for dinner, licking his lips. He saw her smirk out if the corner of his eyes and felt her wriggle her hips just vaguely, feeling a blush threaten to creep across his face. She had him and she knew it, and she was playing him on his inexperience. Grunting, he stepped back, turning and starting to head for the door.

"Oh, Daryl?"

Daryl paused, looking back at her, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. She had her back to him for a few moments before wiping off her hands. She sat the towel down and turned, a smirk playing at her lips, before suddenly pushing him back against the doorframe. His eyes went round as saucers, frozen to the spot at first when she leaned in to kiss him on the lips before kissing her back a little uncertainly.

When she pulled back, she just smiled, patting his chest before stepping back and leaning back against the counter, saying, "Nice try."

Daryl blushed but nodded, pausing before making a beeline for the showers, but smiled to himself when he neared the door.

Mission accomplished?


	17. Little Motel

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

Daryl stood in front of the double bunk bed in the temporary housing, watching Carol sleep, his eyes soft. He barely brushed his thumb over her cheek, before turning away, walking off down the hall silently. He took out his knife and silently executed the mother walker first. When his eyes landed on the child, he felt himself shake a little at the thought of Sophia before shaking it off, dropping to his knees and holding out his arms until the little walker stumbled into them. He clutched her tightly, twisting the knife until she went limp. He laid her down, getting up and stripping the sheets from the beds.

He wrapped them up in the sheets and tied them, carrying out the mother first and lighting a fire, laying her down. He turned to go back, lost in thought. He had been doing that a lot lately... It was time to get out of the habit. He needed Carol but a little time to himself to gather his thoughts was helpful sometimes. He wondered when she would get up, what she would think of what he had done, how she would feel. Would she be mad? Being by himself wasn't what he was waiting for anymore. All he wanted now was her.

Backtrack a few months if not more, to the prison. Everything felt like a sinking ship when Carol was ripped away from him by Rick. He couldn't understand it, she was his friend, why would Rick trade her away like that? He banged his fists, busted his knuckles, everything she had told him not to do at the farm. He paced around, trying to get an understanding, a feel for the situation. In a rare moment of being unable to make himself submissive and complacent, he stood up to Rick, saying, "We're better than this. We don't do that."

There were some insults thrown but Rick deflected them like he had a fucking iron shield, so Daryl continued to pace around his cell now like a caged animal. He suddenly kicked the wall, spinning around, spitting something he could no longer recall. The expression in Rick's eyes was cold but taken aback, not exactly regretting what he had done. He didn't argue anymore, but there was a bit of pride there Daryl wanted to wipe right off his face. His stony expression crumbled a little to show a bit of sadness, saying simply, "I'm very sorry."

"But you're not."

Backtrack a few years to the farm, when he had yelled at her and called her a bad mother because the pain in his heart was unbearable. The pain of a father. He wished he could take it back but he wouldn't get a chance now because she was gone. He didn't get to say he was sorry for so many bad things he had said when he was a bad man. Even then as he picked the lock after the teenager had stolen his crossbow and she was panicking, the most his anger was was anger she had almost gotten killed so his voice edgy when he tried to reassure her. Even the man he was now was a hundred times better than the man on the farm.

All these times from the start when he had arrived at the camp flashed behind his eyelids. He could remember every step, every whisper and every gentle touch. He could walk backward through all the years they had been through like a video tape being wound back in the old days when they still played a VHS. Of course, everything was different now, but that didn't mean he would forget. No matter what happened he could backtrack every single day, count down all of them from the starting point. Recount everything he had been or was waiting for.

Fast forward to the present and everything was going wrong. He watched the car slam into her and almost lost it then and there. This couldn't be happening. None of it. He listlessly, in a zombie fashion, stumbled to a van with the kid and drove back toward the church, his eyes pinned to the road, a few tears making their way down his cheeks. Rain started to pour down on the rickety van and he wanted to stop the vehicle and just wallow in his grief but he couldn't. Why did everything have to be his fault?

He had never been more relieved to make a plan with Rick. Now, more than ever, what he was waiting for was to see Carol again. After the deal had been successfully negotiated, he wheeled her to the corner immediately, protectively standing by her... until Beth's untimely demise. At the gunshot and spatter of blood, his vision had blurred, wildly making a direct headshot with shaking hands before lowering his arm, slumping and feeling Carol rest a hand on his shoulder. He started to sob, feeling anguish rip through him, turning away.

After carrying the deceased teenage girl from the building, the girl like a sister to him, almost falling to his knees, everything seemed to race by like a wildfire. Time was going too fast for him to keep up and he felt like he was walking so slowly. When they had all ritually buried her, even past his shock and grief which for the most part engulfed him, he noticed Carol was beginning to have trouble staying up again. He blindly brushed Tyreese off, feeling a fierce protectiveness not to lose anyone else and that even though this was all his fault, he just needed to know she was alive. He needed to know.

He lifted her off the ground, carrying her bridal style toward the center of the group when they had to head out, vaguely registering Maggie's sobs. Carol didn't even protest; in fact, she fell asleep. For several moments he feared she had passed and panicked, telling everyone to stop just to check before continuing. Other than that, he hadn't said a word the entire time. Even with carrying her, he barely even acknowledged her presence, numb from the shock.

Somewhere in him though, he knew deep down things would get better and this would hurt but he wouldn't stay like this forever because he was strong.

He was waiting for a lot of things. He was waiting for Carol to get better, waiting to find a safe place, waiting to move on, waiting for this and waiting for that, waiting for anything and everything and a miracle.

When he was better, as he were before the whole events, he would be waiting for Carol to start over with him the way it should be.

He was waiting to feel alive again.

_I hope that you like it in your little motel _

_And I hope that the suite sleeps and suits you well_

_Well I can see it as time and a sight through smell and_

_Thats why its nice to be by yourself_

_Cause thats what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for, aren't I?_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for darlin'_

_We treat mishaps like sinking ships and _

_I know that I don't want to be out to drift_

_Well I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and_

_They both tell me that we're better than this_

_Cause thats what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for, aren't I?_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for darlin'_

_We trade tit for tat like that for this_

_And I don't think that there was an insult that was missed_

_I can see it in your eyes like I taste your lips and_

_I'm very sorry_

_Cause thats what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for, aren't I?_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for_

_That's what I'm waiting for darlin'_

_It rained and its over a shooting star _

_Landed directly on our broke down little car_

_We fold and we had made a wish _

_That we would be missed_

_If one another just did not exist_

_Cause thats what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting on, aren't we?_

_That's what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting for darlin'_

_That's what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting for_

_That's what we're waiting for aren't we?_


	18. Falter

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

The leaves crunched under their feet as they walked along through the woods. Daryl had been struggling to get into a better state of mind, and he was beginning to perk up again, but he was rather edgy and everything made him jump almost. He was still coming back to reality from being stuck in almost a trancelike state of being, practically wandering around for weeks looking dead inside until recently. He was whistling a little as they walked along and she was swinging her gun, humming along with his tune contentedly as he shifted his crossbow. "Think we'll catch anything else other than a bunch of squirrels?"

Daryl shrugged a little, looking up and glancing at her. His shoes lazily scuffed the ground; he was in desperate need of new sneakers. "Maybe. It's about that time of year where we'll start seeing a lot more deer, anyway. Fall is a pretty active season."

Carol smiled, elbowing him, murmuring, "You're such a smart man." Daryl just looked down and shrugged a little uncertainly. His self-confidence had dropped dramatically since the hospital along with many other things. He had never been a very secure man but prior to the events he had seemed to have begun getting comfortable with himself. He gave a little whistle again until she suddenly began moving away, looking up and frowning, shrinking a little, unsure if he had upset her before he became ten times more alert. "Hey, wait, something's not-"

"Shh!" Carol said, waving her hand, "I think it's a deer!" She made her way over to a bush, peering over the top on her tiptoes. "Oh, Daryl, come look! It's a really big stag. Do you think we could feed the whole group?"

Before he had a chance to respond, a walker suddenly grabbed her leg from the brush and knocked her to the ground, hissing and making noise, trying to get at her to bite her. Blind panic and fear shot through him. He didn't even think to use his crossbow in his panic; he dropped it altogether and flew at the walker, beginning to stab it repeatedly in the head until a slightly dazed Carol grabbed him and pulled him back. He burst into tears immediately and she crouched down to comfort him.

That was a week ago. He had immediately become overprotective, defensive, paranoid, smothering, and... well, he became very distraught if she even disappeared from view for a few moments. He followed her around and insisted on sharing the same bed, even forgetting his unfamiliarity to the situation, in fact welcoming her to cuddle up to him for warmth. He had almost lost her, again. He had almost lost her too, and it was all his fault and he had to keep a closer eye on her now.

It was driving her crazy but at first she didn't say anything. At first, she tried to understand and tell herself he had lost someone that was akin to a sister to him and he was struggling to continue processing it. At first, she enjoyed the cuddling and the special treatment he gave her because no one had ever treated her with such affections before. At first, she didn't mind the extra closeness, even wanted it. At first, she told herself he would get over it in a day or so.

He didn't.

He became increasingly paranoid about the whole thing. He would bring her her meals, check to make sure she was here or there, wouldn't let her go on runs. He wouldn't take her hunting anymore, he didn't let her leave camp and insisted she would always be in someone's sight while he was out. He got upset if she didn't follow what he said so she did her best at first, hoping it would calm him down. But as days passed, he soon even started slacking on hunting to follow her around like a lost puppy at her heels and breathe down her neck over everything she did.

That was when she hit her breaking point. One day, he was tailing her when she was starting to head out of camp a little. He grabbed her shoulder suddenly, pulling her back, hissing, "Hey, where are you going? You can't leave camp!"

Frustratedly, she suddenly ripped her arm away from him, snarling startlingly, "Daryl, for the love of God! I'm going to the bathroom, you don't have to treat me like a child! Stop acting so immature and go do what you're supposed to be doing! I don't need a damn babysitter round the clock, you know?! Why can't you just give me some space sometimes! What's wrong with you?" She turned around and started to storm back to where she had been cooking angrily, everyone watching in silence, stunned.

Unexpectedly, a small rock thunked her in the back of the head. She turned to the side a little, growling crankily, "Daryl, if you don't stop acting so immature-" She cut off when she saw him. His fists were clenched and his face was red, looking very upset. He puffed out his cheeks, looking down at his feet, and she rolled her eyes, beginning to turn away, assuming he was just going to play his stupid game where when he was upset with her he sulked to show it. What came next she never thought would happen in her wildest dreams.

Daryl Dixon stamped his foot loudly, his head snapping up, yelling, "DAMN IT, CAROL! I almost lost you! AGAIN! Four fucking times! That's four fucking times! Couldn't you see me last time, didn't you see how much that had been tearing me apart?! Goddammit, Carol, what the fuck do you want from me! I don't trust anyone else to keep an eye on you but me because last time, Rick kicked you out! I won't let anyone do that to you, and I'm damn not letting you run off again, or... or get yourself killed or bit! I'm gonna keep you alive. I'm gonna keep you here, I have to protect you. I couldn't protect Sophia and Lizzie or Mika or Beth, and it's my fucking fault, and this time I swore to myself I'll get it right this time. I won't screw it up. I can't. I can't screw it up, I can't lose you because... because... fuck!" He threw his arms in the air, shouting, "I LOVE YOU, CAROL!"

Even Maggie looked shellshocked he had confessed in front of everyone through her rather depressed state. His chest was heaving, and he was bright red, looking thoroughly embarrassed but held his ground, lifting his chin. He swallowed hard, stiffening when she turned around, preparing himself for the worst. The silence was lengthy and he couldn't see her face. There was a lump in his throat and he was certain he had ruined their friendship and everyone in their family was going to make fun of him for being such a girl about his feelings.

The next thing he knew, she was in his arms, her hands on either side of his face, kissing him hard. He swayed a bit before bracing his worn sneakers in the snow, kissing her back. He leaned his forehead against her, looking horrified when her eyes were glassy and wiping at them with the pads of his thumbs worriedly. She just giggled and kissed his nose. His heart was feeling hopeful, but it didn't start soaring until she said, "I love you too, Daryl."

"I love you more than my fucking life," Daryl whispered, sounding relieved, picking her up and spinning her. An 'I love you' was practically a declaration of marriage at this point. There was no point in waiting if everyone should die. He set her down, sniffling himself, when Rick smiled and called, "You may kiss the Bride," causing everyone to laugh. Daryl broke into a shit-eating grin not entirely unlike his brother's, tipping her over his arm and kissing his gray-haired queen passionately. Her fingers threaded in his long hair and everything was simply perfect.

He didn't know why he had waited so long to tell her. He lifted her bridal style like tradition and she laughed, too. It was the first smile he had given since the events from the hospital had happened, which was now quite some time ago but he had been slow to recover. As always, they rose from the ashes like phoenixes. A match made in Hell. He was still trying to process, his head spinning. They had dinner and everyone was fairly upbeat for the first time in a long time, Judith squealing and giggling when Rick began to feed her, gurgling. She was close to saying her first words. The light Beth had been was inside all of them, sometimes it was just hard to find.

After everyone was settled and talking by the fire, Rick and Michonne suddenly began to push Daryl toward Carol, pointing him in the direction of their shelter. Daryl faltered, before giving Carol a faint smirk, though it was more awkward than anything, nodding and lifting her bridal style again. She allowed it this time, clinging to him and he waved to the others a little as a goodnight.

Kicking the door closed behind him, she smirked and grabbed him by the shirt collar, hissing in his ear, "I guess I should give you a proper wedding night for being so generous about your feelings."

Daryl couldn't help but chuckle at the flirt. "Guess I should have yelled at you sooner."

"Stop."

"I don't want to."


	19. Jealousy

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

I've had three requests for jealous Caryl! C:

He was easily made jealous, and she knew it. She knew it since Sophia had died, when he had watched her even from afar and looked rather upset when Shane had cleaned her hand when she had cut it on accident.

She had known it since the prison when Axel had begun flirting with her. He had almost gotten into an argument with him, stating though he had been in prison for however long, they had been on their own for a long time, too, and they were equally starving for attention. Carol had watched with amusement when he had practically looked like he wanted to tear his hair out but at the same time she saw right through him- he was the one starving for attention, so he was jealous. All that pent-up frustration and yearning for affection was seeping through the cracks without Merle around to hide behind. Later, she had decidedly touched his shoulder as she passed and whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." She could have sworn she'd seen him blush.

She could be jealous too, though. He just didn't know it until later, when the prison was filled with people. It was always bustling with activity and while their end was quiet, everyone was always doing something. Rick was farming, Carol was cooking, and Daryl was organizing everything, so on and so forth. Daryl was a busy bee, indeed, and a popular one for the ladies- or rather, everyone. He didn't see it, he saw right through it, oblivious, but among those calls of his name and the hellos, the girls, and even some guys, would stare, and when he would lean over the counter to talk to Carol, he would look surprised and jump if anyone but her touched his back or anywhere on him, really.

He was a damaged one, so of course his heart wasn't given out like the romance that blossomed between Tyreese and Karen. He was quiet and withdrawn, getting used to the attention, and sometimes she would point it out to him but he would flush and shrug it off. It made her jealous that almost every girl had eyes for what he had it seemed like, made her want to assert she had liked him first and no one was going to change that. She became increasingly edgy every time he came in as time passed by and twenty-eight days ticked away.

Finally, on the twenty-ninth day, the twenty-ninth day without an accident, she had been chatting with him when a particular woman had walked up to him and touched his shoulder, smiling flirtatiously. "Hey handsome, are you free later?"

She winked at him, but he just looked thoroughly bewildered and flattered, ducking his head a little but not answering. Carol clenched her fists, biting her lip, before unexpectedly slamming her hands down on the counter, making Daryl jump back, startled. "No, he's not free, for your information! Maybe after a busy day he'd like to relax, or, you know, maybe he's seeing someone, he's just really quiet about it! Nobody ever asks him anything like that, you just go up and start harassing him!" She waved her hands a little, struggling to express her anger before storming off abruptly, grumbling to herself.

She hid in her cell, sitting down on the bed and covering her face. Daryl had started sharing a cell with her after Lori had died, though he had seemed a little reluctant but nevertheless had dumped his stuff in the corner. She hoped he wouldn't come in soon. She sniffed a little, dabbing at her eyes, covering her eyes with her sleeves. What was wrong with her? She was acting like a teenager. She heard very faint, soft footfalls echoing the walls and immediately knew it was him, murmuring when she detected him in the doorway, "Go away..."

"No."

His answer surprised her a little. She didn't look up though, shaking her head, whispering, "I don't want to talk right now, Daryl. You can yell at me later."

"I'm not here to yell at you, Jesus Christ..." Still, his voice was gentle. He walked in slowly and sat his crossbow down, kneeling in front of her. He grasped her hands all of a sudden, pulling them down, trying to get her attention, trying to get her to look at him, that same starvation. "Was it the girl?"

Carol straightened, trying to look away but he surprisingly grabbed her face, making her look at him, looking her straight in the eye, raising his brow. "Tell me."

Carol crossed her arms, huffing, a blush creeping across her face, muttering, "She's prettier than me... Why does everyone have to like you?" She looked down, but he tilted her chin back up, leaning in, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. It was awkward at first but she relaxed slowly, tentatively kissing him back.

Daryl was the one to move back, murmuring, "I like you. You're the most beautiful woman in the whole prison... Nobody liked me before all this. You liked me first. I liked you, too... I'm not just gonna jump into a relationship with some skank I dunno, Hell no!" He touched her cheek before dropping his hands, whispering, "And if you wait for me... I promise I'll make it worth your while. We got time now."

Though it turned out he was wrong and it took them two times to reunite and a death, he committed to his promise. He came around, and he shone like a shooting star.


	20. Jade

Daryl was feeling the Christmas spirit this year. Everyone was seeming a little glum about it even after he had dragged home a little Charlie Brown tree and strung it up for everyone to see. It seemed like only he and Judith were feeling good about it. After much talking with Rick, they agreed to do a Secret Santa gift exchange. Rick had taken a little convincing since he was rather concerned for the group, but after some reasoning, gave in.

Daryl ended up with Carol, who seemed to be the most in need of holiday cheer. He was determined to make her happy. He always wanted to see her smile, but he especially wanted to make her smile on Christmas. He had to think of the perfect gift that would surely capture her heart, prove his feelings for her.

He got the perfect idea. He had had it on him, but he couldn't find it now. He looked everywhere for it, even decided to retrace his steps as far as he could. It had to be miles back, though, so he would either have to find a new one or go all the way back to Terminus and dig it up somewhere. Where was it? He was starting to panic. It was supposed to be a gift for her a long time ago...

After hunting each day, he dropped off his kills and stayed out even longer than usual until it started to get dark before he headed back as quickly as he could. He had to find it, or find one that was the same. He started watching the ground he walked on intently as twelve days leading up to Christmas began to fly by and he was positive he would never, ever find what he was looking for. He was starting to lose hope and run out of options; he might just have to get her a different Christmas gift.

On the day of Christmas, he was late coming back. On his way back, he had tripped and found what he had been searching for. Excitement filled his being and his soul soared. He forgot everything entirely and went running back to their camp as fast as his legs could carry him, panting by the time he reached the camp and having to stop to take a breather. Carol was sitting away from the others, picking at her shirt, looking upset. He approached her, frowning and setting his crossbow down. "Hey, you okay?"

"They didn't involve me in the Secret Santa. Nobody wants me here."

Daryl looked shocked, sitting down by her. "What makes you say that?" he said softly, "Didn't you get someone to give a gift to?"

"Yes," she murmured, continuing to pick at her shirt, "He wasn't here to give it to." This only confused Daryl; he frowned, looking down, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he sighed, putting his hand on her knee. This caught her attention and she looked up at him bleakly. "What?"

"Come with me," Daryl replied gruffly, pulling her up to her feet and grabbing his crossbow again, walking with her away from the camp. She just hung her head, looking down at the ground, and he knew he had to hurry it along. He elbowed her suddenly, making her come to a stop when he was away from the camp a little, out of earshot at the least, coming around to stand in front of her. He cleared his throat, digging around in his pockets and pulling out the little jade stone. He started to place it in her hand but instead threw it at her clumsily, just like the water jug, his face red, mumbling, "My Christmas present is I'm giving myself to you..."

He trailed off embarrassedly, looking down as she caught the stone, watching her turn it over and over and slowly light up, murmuring shakily, "What did you say?"

She looked up at him and their eyes met. He swallowed his pride, shifting on his feet before whispering uncertainly, "I-I just, I want... I want you to... I want you to be mine for Christmas..." He shuffled his feet again, looking down.

Carol was stunned into silence, trying to process, but she knew she had to react fast because he looked like he was about to take it as rejection and run away. She didn't want him to run away from his feelings like he had so many times before. After a long moment, she broke into a watery grin, tears forming in her eyes, throwing her arms around his neck. "Yes, yes, Daryl, of course! Of course I will be!"

Daryl squeaked, stumbling a bit and catching her in his arms, placing his hands on her waist. He smiled, looking relieved, mumbling, "Yeah...?"

"Yes!" Carol repeated, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him back to camp. She stopped at the door to one of the cabins they had built up for the time being; it was nothing fancy, only temporary shelter. He waited for her to come back out, looking surprised when a poncho was thrust into his hands, Carol beaming but looking for approval on his face. "You were my secret santa and, well, I know it's not a motorcycle, but I figured you missed your poncho too, and..."

"I love it," Daryl said, cutting her off and setting his bow down once more, unfolding it and pulling it on. He spun around once, looking pleased, feeling the fabric and looking it over. "Thank you. It's perfect..."

They both went silent for several long moments as Daryl looked over the poncho before Carol cleared her throat. He looked up questioningly, frowning, fearing he had done something wrong. She pointed to the leafy plant hanging above their heads; mistletoe. He blushed hard, meeting her eyes again after a moment, before relaxing, taking a breath. He stepped forward, placing his hands on her waist. She threw her arms around his neck for the second time, pulling him in and kissing him deeply, lifting one leg like in those silly fairytales.

When he pulled away from the kiss, she smiled at him and his heart filled with joy he had brought back her Christmas spirit. He leaned his forehead against hers, whispering, "Merry Christmas, Carol... I fucking love you."

"I love you too, Daryl," she murmured, starting to say something else when a snowball hit her straight in the back of the head. She squealed in surprise, jumping and turning around, finding it was Rick, who jumped and ran behind Michonne. She looked at Daryl, smirking. "How about a snowball fight?"

Daryl smirked back, leaning down to ball up some snow in his hand, hopping in front of her. "Let's get 'em, girl," he said, hitting Michonne in the knee, laughing.

Everyone had a good Christmas that year.


	21. Together

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

"Sophia wasn't mine!"

He regretted it the moment the words came out of his mouth. He doesn't even know why he said them; he was just angry and upset and he wanted her to go away and give him some space. He didn't even know the little girl that well but he had never felt like this, never thought he would feel like a father. He cared about her so much, like she were his own he had brought into the world, and all his fault that she had been taken out of it.

He trembled in the corner of his space on Hershel's farm, trying to calm himself down as dawn began to filter through the trees. Guilt had been eating him alive all night, so much that he couldn't sleep. He had to apologize somehow. Carol had probably been like him her whole life; back against the wall, never enough time to show her emotions, so much it was difficult for her to do so, even now. He ran a hand through his hair, looking up at the Sun peeking through the trees.

He had to take it back somehow, he had to make it better. He wasn't really sure how to do that, but he had to try. He had to fix it, and make it better, he had to be there for her in any way he could and suck it up. For a few days now, he had avoided her. When they had the meeting about the kid they had brought in as a prisoner, he had immediately been the first one to leave the house to keep Carol from trying to talk to him, ignoring her at all costs.

Today, the guilt was consuming him and he knew he had to stop. He set out to hunt while waiting for the group to rouse, bringing back a few squirrels and a lucky catch of a deer. He stepped out of the woods gracefully, heading for where they had primarily set up camp, placing his line down, weaving through to look for Carol. He ended up running into Dale, who was getting out of the RV. "Where's Carol?"

Dale gave him a look before smiling warmly, saying softly as he patted Daryl on the shoulder, "In the RV. You can go in and wait for her if you want."

Daryl nodded, shying a bit at the touch but murmuring, "Thank you." He clambered up the steps into the RV and leaned against the wall next to the door into the back of the van, patiently waiting for her to come out. When he heard the door softly open, he watched her slip out like a field mouse, his eyes following her.

She stopped in the doorway, eyeing him, asking after a moment, "Did you come here to yell at me again?"

Daryl shook his head, a lump in his throat, searching for the words to say. He didn't think he'd get this far. He shuffled his feet, and she just looked down, turning away. He caught her by the shoulder, spinning her around to face him, his eyes wide and desperate now, blurting out, "I'm so sorry, I... I want to take back what I said. I just, I... I didn't mean it, Sophia, I thought, I wanted- I- I just... I mean- well..."

Carol raised her hand suddenly and he stopped talking, taking a step back, expecting her to reprimand him. Her face softened, taking a step forward to balance it, reaching out to touch his arm. He didn't flinch for once, too entranced by her eyes, never once looking away. He swallowed hard again, his heart pounding in his chest, waiting for something, anything. "I understand. It was the first time you had responsibility. You felt like she was hers. You did what a father would do. More than her own did. Don't blame yourself."

This time, Daryl looked down at the floor, unable to explain he would never be able to forgive himself for not finding her in time. He puffed out his cheeks childishly for a long moment before whispering, "I do want you here. I'm sorry for yelling. My brother, he just, he told me that nobody... and he's not... and I need you here..."

When he trailed off again, she gripped his wrist, and this time he stiffened a little but quickly relaxed when he recognized she meant it sympathetically. She met his eyes, and though he normally had trouble making eye contact, he found he couldn't look away, saying in a calm, level tone, though she teared up a little, "I don't plan on going anywhere. I will get stronger. We can make it, together."

He suddenly grasped her hand, letting a little vulnerability show as he repeated, "Together?"

"Together."

A twitch of a smile found his lips, murmuring, "Okay... I'm here for you."

"Thank you," she replied, a small smile coming to her lips for the first time since her daughter had died. "But I want to thank you for what you did."

"What do you-" He cut off when her lips found his cheek, frowning. He touched his cheek when she moved away, a faint blush on his cheeks, before brushing it off. "We'll be okay again."

She nodded, looking down before looking back up at him. "We will. Go on. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah."

Little did they know, in a few days he'd rescue her on his motorcycle in the pitch black, allowing her arms around his waist, keeping her safe from everything, making the turns, determined to get her out alive. He had waited, knowing she would come to him. When they were out of danger's way, he turned his head to meet her eyes, saying with what she could have sworn was affection in his voice, "Together."

AN: Merry Christmas Eve from America everyone!


	22. New Beginning

AN: Leave a comment if you want this to be a multi-chapter! I will only do so if I gain enough comments. C: also, leave me your prompts in the ask box! I will take prompts from detailed to words to quotes- whatever your heart desires. I will post periodically in the Caryl tag.

Got several requests for smut! Also, I had a request for Daryl as a virgin only been given ideas and information on sex, and that interests me since the creators haven't decided yet on whether he is c: with his upbringing, I believe it's possible.

I'm tagging as nsfw and I can't do read more on mobile, so please skip if you need to!

The days at the prison were long and brutal, especially after they began taking in new people. They were hot and heavy in the Summer, but in the beginning, they were struggling to make a home there in the winter.

Nobody knew though hints were dropped, flirts were made, but they never told. He wasn't ready and neither was she, for anyone to know about their relationship, but it happened and they weren't stopping. It had become serious very quickly, and he wasn't sure how it happened, but he could have guessed it started with that first night. He had woken on the perch with a killer back pain, and decided then and there he would have to take a cot the next night.

So, on the second night of the prison, he appeared in her cell. Lori wasn't yet bunking with her because Hershel wanted to keep an eye on her and make sure her condition was alright, at least for another night. He crept up to Carol's cot, touching her, clearing his throat. They had danced around the fact there was something else there for a while, but there was a breaking point and he couldn't deny it. He was ready to stop running the other way. "Psst, hey... Move over."

Carol grumbled but sleepily moved over. Daryl crawled in beside her, muttering, "You were complaining you were cold. Do you mind?" When she just shook her head drowsily, he made himself comfortable, exhaling, putting his arm under his head. She rolled over suddenly, looking up at him. He offered her a small smile, and she leaned up, planting a kiss to his lips. He kissed her back, placing his other hand on her waist. He scooted closer, allowing her arms around his neck, letting her nestle into his warmth. He shifted, tugging his poncho off, about to use it to give her a blanket when she placed her hand on his cheek and leaned in. His breath hitched a little as she whispered, "You said you'd go down first."

He froze a little. His dad had always made crude comments, giving his explicit instructions that had grossed him out as a child, stuff about his mother. Merle, later in life, had always been one to reel in the girls. He'd hear it at night, have to listen to him talk about it in the morning. He had a vague idea of how it worked, but he was inexperienced, still a virgin, never learning the way. He understood the concept, just never committed the action. After a long moment of silence, he mumbled, "I, um... I don't know how. I-I mean, I've never..."

"I know." He met her eyes, a little surprised. "It's okay..." She stroked his growing hair, and he sniffed, nuzzling into her touch, clearly enjoying the attention. They fell into silence again for several moments before she said abruptly, "Only if you're ready."

"I can try..."

He shifted so he was on top of her, kissing her lips again. He trailed his lips down slowly, his fingers working away her clothes as he went, the slightest movement seeking permission. He threw her bra aside, pulling off the rest of her clothes. Sitting back, he admired her body for a moment, touching her full breasts tentatively and then her scars along her stomach from her ex. He burned with anger for a moment before trailing his fingers to her core. Meeting her eyes, he whispered, "You're beautiful," lowering himself to kiss his way down her body. When he reached her pussy, his nostrils flared a little at the sweet scent. His eyes never left hers, slowly pushing her legs apart.

She smiled and nodded to him reassuringly. Taking a deep breath, he focused, gripping her thighs and slipping his tongue inside her, beginning to work it. He pumped and wiggled it, lapped at her, and she soon began to moan and grip his hair, pulling him closer, to which he eagerly obliged. His tongue was a work of art, some kind of amazing natural talent, easy to observe from the way he licked his fingers after he ate his food. He snuffed a bit when some of her wetness trickled up his nose. He could feel her building up, felt her body squirm for him, and curiously nipped at her clit. This sent her over the edge, and he couldn't help but moan when she came in his mouth. He could feel some of it trickle down and get caught in his stubble.

Carol grabbed his arms, gently pulling him up, kissing him. He wrapped his tongue around hers, her taste on his tongue, smiling against her lips triumphantly. He felt her hands work and undoing the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off. He stiffened faintly at her hands on his scars but then allowed it, letting her in, tearing down his walls. "There's no going back," Daryl whispered, "And I love you."

"I love you," Carol repeated, "We only have the present."

"You'll be mine. I won't back down. I won't let you go. Once it's serious, it's serious."

"I'm with you," Carol said firmly, kissing his cheek, "I've always been with you."

Daryl nodded a little, allowing her to undo his belt and pull it free. She unzipped his jeans and yanked them down with his boxers. He kicked them away, meeting her eyes. She smiled reassuringly, gripping his length in her hand, feeling him up, provoking a soft whimper. She grinned slyly when she felt his dick throb in her hand needily, guiding him to her entrance. Looping her legs around his hips encouragingly, she pressed her heels into his ass a little, whispering, "Go on."

Daryl glanced at her nervously before nodding, thrusting his hips and pushing inside her completely. He groaned when her walls quivered and gripped him, panting softly. She ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him down. He obliged, kissing her and beginning a slow, steady pace, their skin slapping together softly. He bit her neck, sucking a hickey into it, listening to her moans as he followed his instinct, biting and sucking and licking along her neck, collar, and shoulders. When he reached her breasts, he experimentally sucked, encouraged by her fingers in his hair and running down his spine and chest.

Soon, he was rutting into her fast and hard, her cries muffled into his neck as she left marks, his grunts soft in her ear. She was saying his name like a mantra, in a sweet, pleading voice that made his insides melt, "Daryl, Daryl, Daryl..." She cried out louder suddenly, digging her nails into his hips, causing a growl from him. With a final, rough thrust against a sensitive spot he had located, she grabbed at his skin desperately as she came apart under him, writhing, muffling a scream the best she could into his shoulder, fluid drenching him. He groaned, climaxing with her, spilling into her and filling her. She moaned his name appreciatively in his ear, supporting him as he slumped.

He soon wriggled off of her and rolled over, pulling her against him. He paused before tenderly kissing her cheek. She giggled, saying softly, "Not bad... Pretty good. You're a natural, pookie."

He smiled happily, touching her cheek, struggling with himself before responding, "Pookie loves you."

"I love Pookie." She stroked his hair, letting her lay his head on her chest, whispering, "Sleep. You earned it."

* * *

They both rested easily for the first time in ages, and his back didn't hurt in the morning. Rick came looking for him to have him help, stopping at the sight, their bodies covered by Daryl's poncho. He smiled to himself, turning to leave, deciding he could sleep in. When Daryl woke up, he was in a surprisingly very upbeat mood throughout the day, walking closer to Carol, and even placing his hands on Lori's growing belly curiously.

Rick deemed he had never seen him so happy. Perhaps he hadn't even been this happy in his whole life.

AN: Happy New Year everyone! Please be safe in 2015.


	23. Grief

He was grieving.

It was as simple as that.

He was both happy and unhappy with the sudden cluster of people at the prison. They needed a bigger group, it was good for them, but he felt closed in and trapped. He used hunting as his outlet, but at the beginning of it, that was not so-

Because he hadn't had a moment to stop and grieve with everything that had gone on.

And then it had hit him hard, that Merle was dead, and Merle was gone and never coming back. He would turn to say something to him, try to make a rude call for his name when he walked in, but no one was there to accept those things. He began to grow depressed, not even feeling the want to hunt- luckily they had food stored in the prison. Rick seemed to want to say something but no one did. They just let him move in with Carol, the only one who understood, in the same cell and curl up on the bottom bunk, sleep as long as he wanted.

And boy, did he sleep.

He didn't want to get up.

The loss was a sting, his last blood kin torn away.

Nobody had ever seen him this bad before. He couldn't let himself feel it and cry on the outside after he had put his brother's walker out of its misery, but inside he felt hollow, sullen, the motivation to do anything gone.

They let him grieve- he had sacrificed himself over and over in the past few weeks and deserved a break.

But as the weeks passed, they began to worry. He rarely left his cell, taking to the bed most. Carol was the only one who could talk to him about it.

One evening, she roused him, brushing his hair behind his ear, murmuring, "Daryl, it's time to get up. You've had your time. Come see your family... Come outside with me tomorrow. You'll start feeling better..."

She was gentle in her tone, soothing and sympathetic, in that light way that wouldn't offend him. He was silent, so she whispered as she offered her hand, "At least come to dinner. Please. One step at a time."

He couldn't deny her, couldn't turn her down. As much as he wanted to, he was enraptured. He rolled over, his hair ruffled. His hair was much longer now, shaggy and down below the back of his neck. He stood slowly, brushing his clothes off. Most of them hadn't seen him for quite a while. She smoothed his hair and he leaned into her touch- she could see the faintest glint of light in his cobalt eyes. She leaned in, kissing his cheek, and he put his hand over the one on his cheek, heaving a sigh.

He drew in close, relishing her silent understanding, his lips brushing her forehead as a silent sign of gratitude. Actions were all she needed from him, offering her hand again. Their fingers interlaced, his gripping hers tightly, and she walked out into the hall.

Daryl followed at her heels, releasing her hand slowly but giving her an uncertain look. He swallowed, inhaling deeply and taking in his surroundings, stepping into the soft moonlight as he crossed the threshold into the cafeteria.

His family all turned their heads. Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, Rick, all of them. Rick smiled at him, and Glenn spoke up softly, "The man of the hour... Welcome back, buddy."

He breathed in the air that had the savory musk of fresh food. His lips upturned just a little, shuffling to their table. Everyone greeted him excitedly, and he was shaking from his frayed nerves but his grief loosened its hold little by little. It would take time yet; his brother hadn't been a good one by any means but still his brother nonetheless. He had a family still. People that loved him dearly. Wanted him there. Gave him purpose. Reason to breathe.

And his brother had sacrificed himself to protect _his_ family... Even if Merle had not fit into the group, he had known how much Daryl cared for them. He had given up his life trying to take out the Governor so that Daryl would be the one to keep on living.

He would forever keep track of the date to remind himself when it was his brother's birthday, when he should grieve again, but this was the beginning with many new faces, young and old. Hope was blossoming.

It was time to come alive again. The thought of fresh air was starting to peak his interest. He wanted to feel alive again.

But as he sat down beside Rick, eagerly taking little Judith into his arms and cradling her before giving her back to her father, and as Carol's hand found his under the table, he realized something.

He already did.

Her hand over his and her silent encouragement was all he needed.

Nothing had ever felt so good than the calm, clear light swirling back into his cobalt eyes, and a rush of adrenaline piercing his lungs, like he had been underwater and he could breathe again.

Everything was going to be okay.

He was _alive _again.

He would take his brother's gift of life- and run with it as long as he could, until his knees were weak, his hands were blistered and his body broken.

Carol's fingers curling against his were a promise for a future. A hope. A different kind of beginning, for himself rather than the group. He welcomed it with open arms, his thumb reaching to rub her knuckles.

In the moonlight as he walked her back to their shared cell, he kissed her knuckles, wishing her goodnight, listening as she fell sound asleep.

_He was alive._


	24. Indoor Cat

He could practically hear them vying all around him.

He was the only one without a job in Alexandria and it was making him fucking sick.

And his attitude from when he had pounced on Aiden didn't help, because walking off down the street he could hear the whispers.

"Monster, he's a monster-"

"He's an animal-"

Everything here spooked him. It reminded him too much of his past, an outcast in civilization. These walls around them were a trap, but he told himself that was hypocritical because they were all by themselves in the prison and he had called it a tomb. This was better than a tomb, this was protection, but he didn't want it. He wanted- craved affection, but being an outsider once more left him in the cold from the rest of the group. Put on the back burner, kicked aside.

His senses were alert now more than ever, making him jumpy. The people living there gave him weird looks when he jumped away from them as they walked by. He wasn't ready for this. He wouldn't even touch the shower yet, unsure what he wanted. Of course... This is what he had wanted. To stop running. But... Now that he had it, why was he ignoring it? Cleanliness, a comfortable place to sleep, warmth... Everything.

He was going to go nuts if he stayed here, so he took to leaving as much as he could to hunt.

Of course, he couldn't get away from the one who knew him best.

Carol found him.

Or rather, followed him.

"Where are you going?"

Daryl froze in his tracks, his mind going blank, his head still spinning, still taut with anxiety. Standing in those streets after Rick had pulled him back... The stares, the whispers. His emotions were a mess, his composure was trying to fail him. He was silent for a long time, but when she took a step, he suddenly whispered, "I don't know."

He turned around slowly to face her, meeting her eyes at last. He lowered his crossbow slowly, his shoulders slumping. He looked broken, so lost, so rejected. He stood still when she walked over to him, her familiar touch finding his cheek.

The next thing he knew, soft lips were colliding with his. A reminder he was not entirely outcast, a breath of realization he was human, just a little rougher than the Alexandrians were used to. He leaned into the kiss unconsciously, his eyes fluttering. When she pulled back, he trailed after her lips a little, his hand reaching up to touch her face.

"Come on back."

Daryl nodded, the promise everything he needed, the silent words someone believed in him, wanted him there even if everyone else was busy. His voice was raspy, but he still said quietly, "Yes, ma'am."

A small smile tugged at his lips when a large one found hers. She was the sun. Everything he had ever needed. He walked with her back to the sanctuary, hand in hand, unafraid. His grip tightened with anxiety, walking down the quaint streets with her. And when his thoughts turned dark and the people whispered, he leaned in and kissed her cheek.

The simplest peaceful gesture settled the Alexandrians like a magic wand- a man in love, a man protecting his family.

Feral, but tamed by someone, the only one that could.

So long as she was near to comb through his faults, flaws, insecurities, doubts, and his struggles, he was content.

With her, he was an indoor cat and an outdoor cat, at the same time in perfect harmony, without a mistake made but every heartbeat skipped.


End file.
